


From the Attic to the Basement

by CathedralMidnight



Category: Undertale
Genre: Abusive Relationship, Angst, Babe in the woods, Boss Battle, Burnt alive, Complete, Complete Story, Everything is sort of terrible, F/M, Faker, Fighting, Finished, Finished Story, Insults, M/M, Mental Abuse, Mpreg, New Au, Paranoia, Physical Abuse, Possible Character Death, Possible mental breakdowns, Tagged as Needed, Theft, Vomiting, a hint of papby seasoning, autumn gothic, boi if you don't get---, cursing, if i were you i'd slap that bitch ha ha, long journey, low fat kustard- light and fluffy, mentally insane, new magic set up, people want to trade what for WHAT?, phobia themed chapter titles, possibly crying while laughing, rehabilitation (physical), relentless summer, see it through to the end, skeletons are different species not AU versions, slowest burn that ever did slowly burn, soul rape/non con, spring out of line, the govt might take your baby, tossing the baby out with the bath water, what have I done?, winter trade for trade, y u do this
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-17
Updated: 2018-10-30
Packaged: 2019-06-11 23:03:03
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 24
Words: 82,888
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15326343
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CathedralMidnight/pseuds/CathedralMidnight
Summary: After's Toriel's sudden death, a grieving Asgore appoints Sans, originally his Advisor, as Queen. Having no choice in the matter, Sans takes up the mantle, unaware of just how insane things will become. While trying to survive the madness of his king, Sans finds a large door with no handles, but there is someone on the other side, someone named Red. According to Red, there's a kingdom's worth of monsters underneath Asgore's kingdom, it's existed for hundreds of years and there's a very good chance Sans could be forced to see it soon....A&B/ Attic and BasementOriginal AU!!!PLEASE MIND THE TAGS!!!This story is finished!





	1. Metathesio

**Author's Note:**

> Hello Everyone! Ready for some low fat but dark chocolate Kustard? Please mind the tags and warnings for this story! Things will get rather intense!  
> This one is a super slow burn and maybe not in the way you think, hee hee. It's also very... I'll say "thought heavy." Sans thinks about things a lot. Since I'm trying to write longer chapters for this one, it actually helps out quite a bit. For now, just enjoy the slow ride to the top of the roller coaster. Please, keep your hands and feet inside the car at all times. Thank you. =3

He almost fell as he rounded the corner and tore a path down the hall. Not until later would he realize he could have teleported, but the moment he had heard about the kingdom’s recent tragedy, his mind refused to remain on a logical track.

The Queen was dead.

Dead.

She had not been sick (well, at the least, not in the physical sense the he could see); she had shown no signs of aging or even growing weary.

But somehow… she was dead.

“Move out of the way!” the tiny skeleton ordered as he pushed through the crowd of other servants---cooks, maids, butlers, nurses, everyone had heard the king’s lamenting roar, the proclamation of his Queen’s death.

He pushed and shoved until he arrived at the massive, looming doors of the King and Queen’s Quarters. He tried the handle.

Locked.

Of course.

He pulled a ring of keys from his pocket and filed through them far longer than he wished before finding the long, silver key.

He unlocked the knob and cracked open the door enough to slip through. When he closed the door, the murmurs of the other monsters were cut off by the dominating silence that engulfed both him and the room.

He turned back from the door, movement slow as he slipped the ring of keys into the pocket of his black jacket.

The only light in the room was from a dimming fire, tossing muted shadows across the far wall. Against this far wall was a large, four poster bed over which the king’s large form loomed.

He could then hear the muffled sniffling, see the large shoulders of his patriarch trembling up and down.

“...My King….” His deep voice cut the silence.

The trembling stopped (far faster than the skeleton expected) and the king looked over his shoulder. His face was hidden in deep shadow, but the etched frown was still visible, almost darker than the shadow itself. The tears in his beard somehow glistened in the low fire light.

The smaller monster shuffled over, steps almost silent atop the carpeted floor. He stopped before reaching the King as his sockets caught sight of the bed.

There was a large shape made of Dust on the white sheet.

The skeleton sucked in a breath, hand coming to his frowning teeth as a odd mix of shock, confusion and despair attacked his Soul.

He knew what to expect. Seeing the Dust of a fellow Monster was not uncommon. He was the one called upon to gather a Fallen’s Dust, to say the prayers of the Gods Above and Below, to lay that dust on the Fallen’s favorite object before leaving the family to mourn.

But, when the Dust belonged to someone he knew, he fell prey to an odd mix of emotions. Shock from the realization they were gone, confusion from trying to understand how this had transpired, despair at the loss. On one rare occasion, he had also felt anger at his failure to protect, disgust at the savagery of the scene he had stumbled upon.

However, after the initial mixing of emotions, one always won dominance for some time. In this case, despair succeeded as he realized more than the Queen was gone.

His _friend_ was gone.

In his darkest days, she had been there beside him letting his tiny hand squeeze hers as she rubbed his shoulder, holding him as he screamed and wailed, as he mourned his losses.

And she was… gone.

“...How… how did this…?”

“I awoke to find her in this poor state.” The King’s usual booming voice was soft and low.

The skeleton blinked. “You awoke… just now?”

At noon?

“We had a heated argument long into the night,” the King explained. “Yes, into the wee hours of the morn. We quieted down enough to sleep. When I awoke….”

…And yet, something was still… off.

“Did you… go to sleep in your robes, cloak and all?” the tiny skeleton monster inquired.

“Yes,” the King grumbled. “As I said, we argued late into the morn. I was too tired to slip into my bed wear.”

“...I see…,” he nodded. “Well, we… we must place her Dust on her favorite item. I will be able to….” He gulped down a sob. “I will take care of moving her… remains. There is no reason you should have to suffer any longer, My King.”

The larger monster nodded. “Her diary is on her desk,” he pointed to a dark corner of the room as he wobbled his way to the fire place. There, he sat in a large midnight black arm chair and stared at the fire, kneading his hands.

The smaller monster studied the King for a moment before treading closer to the bed. He peered down at the Dust, the arctic blue S’s behind his white pinpoints dimming at what lie before him.

A perfect outline of her body replicated in Dust.

Seeing such a display was a bit sickening, tore at his light blue Soul.

She was gone. The truth was here, in front of him.

Not matter how long he stared at the Dust, he could not believe such a fact.

A part of him still expected to wake in bed many floors up in the castle, soaking in sweat and dragging in breath due to the realism this nightmare held, and yet, here he stood, asking himself, _h_ _ow had this happened?_

He knew the King and Queen had been having a rather intense disagreement over the last human who had come through the kingdom.

The way King Asgore had slaughtered the child….

The skeleton had tried to convince himself that the human had deserved every second of pain, but, Error Below, their screams, the splashing of their blood painting the walls…. He could still hear every gasp of air, every plead for mercy, every cracking bone, every punctured organ as if he was still standing in the Judgement Hall.

He remembered whispering, “They deserve it, they deserve it, Lord Error Below, no one deserves this!”

But, by the time he had come to that thought, the human had been “rightfully punished,” and their Soul harvested.

Only one more Soul….

After the “Divine Punishment,” Asgore and Queen Toriel began to argue, the subject revolving around Asgore’s brutish action against the child--- or so, that is what the skeleton believed. This was a rare case that Toriel hadn’t indulged any details to him (she had no doubt believed she and Asgore would work things out in time) so, he could not be sure in all honesty.

Looking back, Sans could see how much had gone wrong during the last human’s run….

“Sans….”

The skeleton jumped, shaken from his thoughts. He jerked his skull around to look at his King.

The large goat was still staring into the dying fire, eyes unblinking. “…Her favorite thing…. Yes, I believe her diary will suffice.”

Sans narrowed his sockets, concerned gaze settling on the larger monster. The skeleton was sure his King had told him as much moments earlier. _He’s still in shock, I’m sure…._ “Her diary….” Sans tapped his chin. “My King, are you sure she would prefer her diary? Not her wedding ring? Or perhaps a favorite piece of…. wait….” Sans glanced back at the sheets covered in Dust and…. nothing else. “…My King….”

“Yes?”

“Did you… move the Queen’s garments somehow?”

Asgore turned to the skeleton, eyes dark, almost beady. His cold stare beckoned Sans to continue.

“Well, it’s just...,” Sans tapped his phalanges together. “She… she died in her clothing, correct? Then how is the Dust directly on the bed---?”

“Perhaps she undressed, I do not remember,” Asgore waved off before rubbing his wrinkled forehead. “Please, her Dust. On her diary, please.”

“O-of course,” Sans replied before shuffling over to the desk set in the dark corner of the room. _What am I doing asking such questions while he’s grieving? Toriel probably just undressed before sleeping. And… with everything else that has happened, perhaps she could no longer handle anything, so she… willed herself to Fall Down?_

Sans stood at the desk, diary in his hands, sockets wide.

Toriel wouldn’t…. But then, how else…?

Sans shook his skull. He padded back to the bed where he rest the diary. He then pulled a pair of white gloves from his pocket (they came in handy for more than he initially believed they would) and slipped them over his small phalanges. The skeleton took a deep breath before handling the Dust with care reserved for a newborn.

 _Odd…._ he thought as the Dust slid over the cover of the book. _It’s… awfully soft. Darker than what I’ve usually seen, too,_ he noted as he began to run the Dust over the pages.

Moments later, the Dust was snugged between the pages of the small book. Sans padded back to the desk and rest the book atop the wooden table.

That was all that needed to be done.

Sans shook his gloves clean over the book, then slipped them off and placed them back in his pocket. “I am done, my King,” he announced as he turned to face the furry monster.

Asgore was still staring at the fire, eyes wide now, as if he was remembering something surprising or shocking.

Sans waited a few moments for the king to reply, but when the silence became strained, he asked, “What should I tell the castle?”

“She went in her sleep,” Asgore answered. “Grieved by the state of the kingdom.”

“Yes, My King,” Sans bowed. “Please, let me know if there is anything else you need of me.”

Asgore only nodded.

Sans shuffled to the door, though he couldn’t help but wonder if leaving his King by himself was the best choice. In the end, he decided that the goat monster would probably do well to grieve alone for the moment.

Once in the hall, Sans informed the rest of the castle staff of the King’s words. He left the servants in hushed tears to return to his room. As soon as the door was closed, his non-existent gut churned with worried.

Something still felt off about Toriel’s passing. Everything surrounding her death did not hold together if one thought too hard on the matter.

Even if the two had argued into the early morning, they were not ones to oversleep. Had the argument been so intense that Asgore had not undressed at all while Toriel had, only to lie naked in bed? With the random appearance of humans, Sans could not imagine anyone going to bed without clothing. In fact, he recalled a few late night searches for humans in which he wore a long shirt and slippers.

No, Toriel would have dressed in a gown of some sort.

Another aspect that bothered Sans was the time of death--- or lack there of. If they had fought until early morn and Asgore had not woken until noon, there was at least a six hour window for Toriel’s death.

Sans berated himself for not being more thorough with his morning check in, but over the years, knocking on the royal’s doors had given him silence later explained by Toriel’s recent early morning walks through the castle or on the grounds and Asgore’s library hideaways.

This morning, he had thought nothing unusual about the silence. In truth, he had grown lax in that task, having grown accustomed to assuming everything was fine.

If he had checked in, opened the door just a crack, could he had saved Toriel…? He could have talked to her if she was feeling so awful that Falling Down was an option to her. In fact, after what he had gone through, why hadn’t Toriel cried on his shoulder? Did she feel as if she couldn’t?

No, they had managed a long friendship through the worst and best times. She would have come to him if she had such deep troubles.

But, what else could explain her passing if not her own desire to Fall Down?

Sans rubbed his temples. No matter how he phrased the possible reasons, his mind refused to believe that Toriel would… she could not have….

But what else could have happened?

In the next few mournful days, Sans tried to put the odd shaped pieces together. Whenever he was not needed, he spent long hours in his room reviewing what the King had told him, what he had seen with his own two sockets, trying to come up with any possible reason for Toriel’s... absence. Something in his Soul would not allow Sans to call this puzzling event her “death.” And yet, she was gone, leaving behind what Sans thought was Dust….

Something about that Dust.…

Why had her Dust felt so different from what he had handled in the past? Does Boss Level Monster Dust feel different? Or maybe the method of supposed death changed the way Dust felt and so---

A series of thunderous knocks ripped Sans from his thoughts. They sounded rather urgent, causing the Skeleton to slam his ‘notebook of questions’ closed and slide from his chair. He hurried for the door, which he threw open.

Asgore stood at the threshold, towering over the skeleton. His face held a deep frown, as if he was a disappointed father about to scowl his truant child.

Sans gulped, his Soul floating in a pool of anxiety and concern. He had left the King alone for the past few days to mourn, yet he seemed no better for the solitude. “My King?”

“We will be removing the Queen’s Portraits from the castle walls.”

Sans blinked, skull jerking in surprise. “Excuse me?”

“I am sure I need not repeat myself,” Asgore grumbled and turned away, his wine purple cloak bellowing behind him.

“My King!” Sans cried as he dashed after his King. Even with a quick start, reaching the long-legged king would take some time due to Sans’ tiny stature--- every step for the King was four for Sans. All the skeleton could do at this point was call out to the giant of a monster. “My King! As your Adviser, I must question the meaning of this! In my humble opinion, I feel as though those portraits should be left in their place to continue to honor the Queen!”

“She had no honor,” Asgore growled as he glared over his shoulder to Sans.

Sans froze to the spot, his sockets growing large. “What… what do you mean she---?”

Asgore rubbed an eye as if pained. A moment later, he whipped around to face the skeleton. “I cannot stand to look at her! Take them down!” he howled.

Sans could only nod, dumbfounded.

Asgore turned away and lumbered down the hall.

Sans gulped.

What was going on? Only a few days ago, Asgore’s grief had been so deep, he was all but mute. Now, he wanted to remove Toriel's portraits from their rightful home? What would he even do with them? Store them away? Place them in a forgotten hall of the castle?

…Destroy them?

Sans refused to believe that Asgore would do such an offense to his wife. Either way, Sans had no choice but to inform the butlers of Asgore’s order. In short hours, the portraits were removed. They vanished into Asgore’s room and were never seen again.

The pit in Sans' Soul only grew as the days continued and Asgore grew more incomprehensible. He would not only demand the removal of Toriel's portraits, but also her furniture, her books, even her decorations that gave the castle its loving feel.

Sans went along with Asgore’s demands, only stopping when Asgore ordered Toriel’s presence removed from all official records.

“Why are trying to erase her!?” Sans demanded, glare set on the monster sitting in a lone throne. If Sans had not seen Asgore sit, he would have mistaken him for a statue in how still his movements were.

“...I thought you would be more understanding,” Asgore murmured. His cold eyes stared at the skeleton, ignoring the rage trembling through his bones. “Everyone mourns in different ways, my Adviser.”

“By erasing everything connected to her!?” Sans pressed.

“It is necessary,” Asgore spoke. “To move on. That being said, I have an order for you, my Adviser.”

Sans grimaced, but replied all the same. “Yes, My King?”

“Comic Sans Courier Skeleton, I order you to become My Queen.”

Sans' sockets widen as his pinpoints flickered out, leaving behind dimming blue S’s. He took a staggering step backward. “Par-pardon me, My King?”

“We are in need of a new Queen, my Adviser. You are the next logical choice as you, out of all the servants, know the most in regards to the Kingdom’s workings.”

“I… I know, but---”

Wait... was _this_ the reason? Was _this_ why Asgore was riding the castle of all traces of Toriel--- to make way for Sans to become Queen? Even if that were the case, Sans was still against the idea. Toriel had been the Queen for centuries. No one had any right to erase her like this!

However, Asgore seemed set to do just that as he pushed on. “Now, my dear Adviser, you do want to help the Kingdom in these tough times, do you not? Do you not want to help me in this most grievous era?”

“Of course, My King!” Sans answered without a second thought. “But, this isn’t---”

“Very well,” Asgore ignored the skeleton’s concern with a smirk. “We will crown you Queen on the morrow.”

Sans stared, teeth set in a frown. His mind raced as his Soul pumped anxiety and dread through his system. The way Asgore’s final decision had fallen on him felt as if he had walked through a thousand spider webs, clinging to and hanging off his bones.

This wasn’t…. This couldn’t be happening….

But the skeleton had been given no choice in the matter.

On the morrow, Sans would be crowned Queen.  


	2. Auto

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Because you are threat.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello again! No warnings for this chapter, though Sans' situation doesn't get much better. :(

“I now present to you, your new Queen, Comic Sans Courier Skeleton.”

Sans released a breath and stepped onto the stage. He blushed at the wide eyes staring at him and did not fail to notice some of the stares were a bit more… amorous than others. Though, there was nothing wrong with admitting that he appeared far more attractive in a silver ball gown, was there? He had to admit that he admired the lace and pearls topping and dotting the layers of taffeta and silk. The gloves, long and shimmering, consisted of the same material, while the train and veil were made of lace forming an intricate design that reminded Sans of Echo Flowers.

Atop his head was his crown. Upon seeing the blue clothed and silver banned regalia, he had sent a silent thanks to the Gods Above and Below for the head piece not resembling Toriel's crown in any way. That had been his greatest fear since Asgore’s order: that he was nothing more than Toriel’s replacement. He had to admit that he had been pleased with this morning’s selection of ballgowns, something Toriel had never been seen wearing (which begged the questions, why did Asgore have these and where did he get them?).

Sans did not have much time to question the appearance of the gowns before servants whisked him away for a shower and make up (just a bit of silver eye shadow for now). Then he picked out a gown, gloves, veil and train (he abhorred heels and refused to wear them, choosing knee high white socks instead), was slipped into his finery and rushed to the King’s room, where Asgore thrust the crown into his shaking hands.

No words were exchanged between them.What was there to say? Sans wouldn’t be able to change Asgore’s mind, no matter what the skeleton said and in truth, Sans really had no desire to speak with him. In the last few days, something had darkened in the King’s eyes. They held no light, no compassion, just steely determination towards a goal Sans couldn’t see or decipher.

Looking back, that moment in the bedroom may have been Sans’ last chance to escape this role. He could have thrown the crown in Asgore’s face, refused his order, demanded answers about Toriel’s absence.

And yet here he stood, blushing before a wide-eyed crowd that began a slow clap for their new queen. Sans saw their adoring faces turn into curious gazes at each other. Gazes were returned with confused shrugs and nervous gulps. Just like Sans, the rest of the castle was blindsided by the King’s choice and announcement.

Sans took a step forward. _Maybe I should try to just reassure them that everything will be---_

“I know this is unusual,”Asgore continued his speech as he stepped beside Sans.

Sans had to force himself not to step away from the towering monster. Something about Asgore’s presence was repulsive to him. However, the skeleton knew he had to stay on stage, so he clenched his tiny hands and looked away so Asgore couldn’t see the growing snarl on his face.

“But the kingdom is in a state of duress, especially after the Queen’s recent passing.”

 _Absence,_ Sans corrected in his head. Oh, what he wouldn’t give to have the courage to say that simple word in front of the court, to demand Asgore to answer all the questions he had about Toriel’s disappearance.

But, Asgore had more proof that Toriel had Fallen Down than Sans had for her disappearing. Without some proof that she was still alive, Sans would not get far in his little rebellion. He either had to find proof or….

Sans glared up at the King. _He knows. He did something, or got someone to do something, but he knows what happened to her. Why else would he try to erase her and appoint me Queen so soon after her disappearance? What did you do, Asgore?_

“But as Adviser, Comic Sans has the most experience in the Kingdom’s workings. He has been most helpful in assisting the Queen and I in governing the Kingdom. As Queen, those skills should only help us grow and survive in this time of need and uncertainty. From this day forward, you will address Comic Sans as Queen. Do you all understand?”

“...Yes, My King,” the court replied, voices a low murmur.

Asgore’s beady eyes shifted to Sans and something masquerading as a smile crept over the goat’s face. “My Queen.”

If Sans had skin, he knew he would feel the flesh crawling at Asgore’s purr.

“Do you have any words for the court?”

Sans nodded and stepped forward. “Um… good morning. I… I know this is a bit odd for everyone. It’s a bit odd for me due to the event’s sudden nature, but… I am still committed to do all I can to help our kingdom, so I… I could not refuse such a role. As I am here to help you, please, do not hesitate to come to me with any questions or concerns. Just because I am Queen does not mean that I am inapproachable. After all, all of us are here to help the kingdom and doing so as one unit is the easiest way to accomplish that task."

And then a devilish sentence popped into Sans’ skull and he spoke without a second thought. “I am sure working together is what Queen Toriel would still want after all.”

Sans did not even attempt to hide his smirk at Asgore’s flinch.

“Yes, like Queen Toriel, I will be just as approachable, so, as I said earlier, please do not hesitate to come to me for anything. Thank you,” Sans smiled and gave a small bow. The court clapped and even cheered, satisfied with both Sans and his comparison.

Sans’ smile grew and he even waved before a wet blanket of dread smothered him.

Asgore had rested a hand on his shoulder.

Sans glanced up at the shadowed frown.

“Come with me, My Queen,” Asgore strained. “I have something to give you.”

Sans gulped, but gave a nod and followed the goat monster past the closed purple curtain and to the back of the stage. The two went down a few steps into a small, darken room where the thrones were kept when the stage needed cleaning. They continued to the back of the room and to a door which opened into a hallway. After a few moments, Sans recognized this as a back hallway that connected to the secondary main hall that lead to Asgore’s room.

Sans gulped. Why had they come back here?

Asgore entered the room and Sans followed, closing the door. He remained at the threshold, Soul shivering in his ribcage as Asgore traversed the room to a dresser in the corner in the front of the room. He searched in a drawer for some time before removing something small and round. When he turned to face Sans, the skeleton could make out two silver bracelets in Asogre’s large hands, each one glinting in the low light of the fire.

Sans took a closer look at the bracelets when Asgore approached him. There didn’t appear to be anything engraved on them. He didn’t recall Toriel wearing anything similar, either. “What are those… My King?”

Asgore held out the bracelets. “A peace offering. I understand I have been hard on you, so please, take these as an apology.”

And he smiled.

A genuine smile.

Sans stared, sockets wide. Guilt consumed his Soul mere seconds later. _How could I have doubted him? How could I be angry at his decisions and choices? He’s grieving and trying the best he can to keep things together. Maybe… Maybe Toriel really did Fall Down. I’ve seen first hand what all this stress is doing to everyone--- they’re scared and tired and, even though we only need one more Soul, they’re giving up hope. Maybe Toriel felt that and…. Gods Above and Below, Asgore, I’m so sorry….._

Sans smiled back and held out his hands.

Still smiling, Asgore leaned down and clasped one loose bracelet on each of Sans’s wrists.

A moment later, a sharp pain ripped through the entirety of Sans’ body, slicing through his bones and piercing his Soul. With a scream, he fell to his knees and doubled over. He couldn’t breath---or more so, he felt like he _needed_ to breath, but _couldn’t._ He gasped for air as sweat beaded and poured down his skull. His bones sounded as if they were cracking, though he was still on his hands and knees, so while they sounded as if they were breaking into splinters, they were still holding his weight. However, if they weren’t just snapping like a weak twigs, perhaps they were being shredded and ground into bone meal as the sensation of knives cutting into his body grew more intense. His Soul was screaming, shuddering, cracking, threatening to break into pieces as thousands of needles pierced into the core of his self over and over.

 _I’m going to Fall Down. I’m going to die!_ Sans gasped, coughed, spit up his own magic. Through teary sockets, he raised a heavy skull to Asgore who held another grim frown on his heavy face. “Wha… what did… you… you do to me…?” Sans managed to gurgle out.

“My apologies, My Queen,” Asgore replied as he walked around the skeleton still gasping and heaving on the floor. “I needed to make sure you would not become a problem in the future---most certainly after your little comment about how you would essentially carry Toriel’s torch.”

“Pr-problem?” Sans shuttered. “What are y-you… talking… about…?”

“Ah, Comic Sans, you must know just how powerful your magic is,” Asgore remarked. “You are a Boss Level Monster after all. I needed to keep your magic in check, to make sure you would not use them against me.”

“Use them against you?”Sans croaked as he sat up to his knees with a deep gasp. His blurry gaze remained steady on Asgore. “I don’t understand…. You said you wanted… my help,” Sans gagged before he vomited again. “Ah… uhhh… you said you… wanted my... help…. T-to help the Kingdom. I would never… use my magic against you…. We….” Sans’ teeth trembled as his sadden sockets stared at Asgore. Despite all of the doubt, the questions, the worry, the suspicion, Sans didn’t want to believe Asgore was the one behind Toriel’s disappearance. He wanted to believe that she had really died and Asgore was just acting out of character due to his immense grief. He wanted to believe that Asgore had been sane enough to pick Sans not only to help the Kingdom, but to help him, because the goat monster knew he was losing his grip and Sans was the only one who could save him. Sans wanted to believe that somehow, things would return to some form of normal.

Sans wanted to believe….

The skeleton gulped down a sob. “We…we’re friends, aren’t we?”

Asgore stopped his pacing, placed his massive hands behind his back. He didn’t look at Sans when he answered. “We are Queen and King, nothing more.”

Sans let the tears fall, let a sob escape, let his Soul break.

“That being said,” Asgore continued. “Your status, as well as your power, make you a threat to me.”

“What are you talking about!?” Sans wailed, his anguish overriding the physical pain eating at his bones. His wet, wide sockets stared at Asgore. “I’m not a threat to you!!”

“Not yet,” Asgore countered, sharp gaze glancing back at Sans. “But you are… perceptive, clever. I need to put you in your place before it is too late. Now, do not try to remove the bracelets and certainly do not try to use your magic. Such actions will only cause you greater pain.”

“Don’t use my….” Sans whispered as realization draped another cold blanket over him. He looked down at the bracelets, then closed his sockets. He tried to tap into his pained Soul and---

 **“GAAAAAAAAAH!”** Sans bellowed as a fresh hell ripped through his Soul. This time he collapsed to the floor, grasping and drooling in a slight, painful daze.

Asgore gave a knowing glance. “I did try to warn you.”

“...Re…Remove these… at once…,” Sans growled as he pushed himself to his hands and knees. **“REMOVE THESE AT ONCE!!!”**

Asgore’s face twisted into a cocky smile. “Look at how you fight, look at you recover so quickly! A lesser monster would have remained unresponsive for hours. You truly do live up to the name Boss Level Monster. Sealing your magic was a wise choice indeed.”

 “This is insane!” Sans bellowed. “I am not your enemy, Asgore! Remove these now! What are the other Monsters going to say when they see these!?”

“Hm, and what makes you believe they will even know what they are?” Asgore asked, gaze sharp.

Sans growled. “Th-then, I’ll tell them! I’ll tell them you’ve sealed my magic!”

Asgore’s sick grin grew as he leaned over Sans’ trembling form. “My Queen, if you wish not to suffer during your reign, if you wish for the rest of the court not to suffer, you will keep this our little secret. You have no means to defy me after all. You also have no guarantee of anyone even believing you.”

If possible, Sans’ sockets grew wider. “…What… what do you mean….no… no guarantee…?”

Asgore straighten up, twisted grin never leaving his darken face. “My Queen, I have been leading the Kingdom for centuries. My rule has been unquestioned, unwavering. I am the last defense against humans who want nothing more than to erase us. You of all monsters should understand how dangerous the humans are after what happened back then,” he grinned.

Sans glared, baring his teeth. “How dare you….?” he spat in a low growl.

Asgore chuckled low in his throat. “As I was saying, My Queen, I am a solid pillar in the chaos of our world. No one will believe I am a threat to anyone but humans. You may say what you will, but they will be skeptical of you….” And that sick smile grew. “And anyone who isn’t will be easy to…convince otherwise.”

Sans gaped as more dread swallowed his Soul. He couldn’t believe the words he was hearing. Asgore believed him to be threat? If he told anyone about these bracelets, he would suffer along with anyone who knew? What in all of the Void was going on!? What was he supposed to do without his magic!?

“How am I going to explain this!?” Sans cried, holding up his arms. “I can’t use my magic!”

“Oh, My Queen,” Asgore’s voice was softer, though his sick grin remained. “However did you find those? I used them on traitors long ago, on monsters who dared tried to hide humans. Oh, those monsters? I could not have a riot form over them, so I kept their identities secret. Do not worry, they were taken care of a long time ago. Now, to the point at hand. I am surprised these still work after all these years. I do not blame you for trying them on, however. They are very unassuming. Unfortunately, I know not of a way to remove them. You will just have to endure the inconvenience until we find a solution for this awful problem.”

Sans could only stare with widening sockets at the smug face Asgore wore.

He planned this. This hadn’t been a spur of the moment punishment, **Asgore planned this.** And to add insult to injury, Sans knew Asgore was correct in the fact that no one would take Sans’ word as truth, at least not at first (and if they did, they would be “convinced otherwise”).

To the Kingdom, Asgore was a pillar in a world a chaos, the one constant in a world that was under threat from murderous humans. No one would desire to believe their King could ever hurt another monster; no one would desire to believe their King would ever hurt a monster who had done nothing to deserve such treatment, such as the Queen.

And the story he had fabricated wasn’t all lies--- Sans had heard whispers of some monsters feeling pity for the humans. A way to deal with traitors, such as cutting off their magic, was believable.

Everything Asgore had said was either true or believable….

To the Kingdom, Asgore was their savior. No one would believe he---

No, no, someone would have to believe Sans. Someone had to believe him!

The skeleton shuddered to his feet and stumbled to the door. As Sans was no threat, he knew Asgore would let him be for now, so Sans staggered into, then down, the hallway. Body shaking and sweating, Sans needed to tell someone, someone he trusted, someone who would believe him, comfort him, help him.

But whoever he told would fall pray to the King’s wrath, and the one monster he could tell, regardless of the King’s threat, was….

Sans slowed to a stop as cold realization froze his bones.

He was alone.

Sans had not had a family in years. His best friend appeared to have died weeks ago. While Sans was courteous with his fellow workers, he did not confide in any of them, content with just his family and Toriel.

But now, Sans had no one.

All of those monsters who would have never doubted him were gone from his life.

Sans stood frozen in the hall as the hopelessness of the situation found a new home in his bones and Soul. He only moved (a quick jump) when Asgore passed him.

“Be good, My Queen,” he spoke, that same sick smile on his face.

Sans took a sharp breath. He waited for Asgore to round the corner before he began to trail behind him, steps soft. At the corner, Sans leaned out into the hall to see Asgore giving a gentle smile to other castle staff. He had on the perfect facade of a true King who cared about his subjects’ well-being.

Sans leaned back around the corner and pressed himself against the wall, growling to hold back tears.

No, no one would believe Asgore had sealed off his magic, that Asgore saw him as a threat, saw anyone who believed Sans in the same harsh light. For a few moments, the skeleton berated himself for not making more friends, but he had always kept to himself. He liked being alone, the solitude helping him in his planning for the castle, as well as offering simple bliss.

Well, now he could be alone all he wanted.

Sans took a deep breath, calming himself. He was going to have to be careful when dealing with Asgore now, as the King appeared to have either a split personality or was hiding his true devious nature under smiles and soft words.

Had Toriel had any idea of Asgore’s true self? If so, Sans could only hope she had died in her sleep….

The skeleton shook his skull and began to walk back up the hall, kneading his hands. _Get a hold of yourself, Sans. Stay focused. Stay careful. You’re alone in this, so you must keep your wits about you when Asgore is near. Now, think about what happened, and what you heard. Asgore sees you as a threat, but what is he trying to protect exactly? The only thing he mentioned was that he had been King for centuries. He believes that to be his safety net from prosecution. Does he think his rule is under threat? Why? He has no relatives in line to rule and I certainly have no plans to become king. Is something else going on? Is he hiding something….?_

“Oh.” Sans stopped short. “Where am I?” he glanced around at the pink and magenta striped walls. During his thoughts, he had taken a random turn and arrived at a long hallway that appeared to hold no rooms.

Why did this hall lead to a dead end? The passage appeared as if a door should be at the end, and yet nothing stood but a solid wall.

Sans walked up the hall, noting that a corridor this long could hold entrances to at least three more rooms. Very odd. Perhaps there had been future plans for more rooms and they had been abandoned? But why leave the hall as is then? Why not just board up the space if the hallway served no purpose?

At the dead end, Sans rested his hands on the wallpapered surface---

Wait, wallpaper? Why wasn’t this painted like the rest of the walls? And what was… was there some sort of pattern under here?

“Ah, maybe that’s why they didn’t paint it,” Sans whispered. “The pattern seems etched into the wall, so paint would only make it more visible. I guess the next best thing was using wallpaper. But if there’s something under here… does that mean they were going to have this hallway lead to another room?”

“Sans!” a voice bellowed, making the skeleton whip around. The massive shadow of Asgore stood at the open end of the hall. “My Queen.” His voice sounded stern. He cleared his throat. “Silly one, what are you doing, walking down an empty hall? Come along, it is time for lunch.”

Sans could hear the chatter of other castle staff. _So two-faced,_ the skeleton grimaced, but replied all the same. “Yes, My King.” He even gave a small bow before approaching the King who gave the skeleton a glare of warning before walking onward. Sans glared back before taking a quick glance around his surroundings. He realized he recognized the window at the end of this hall. This hallway housed Asgore’s bedroom. In his random walking, he had walked past another small hall leaning to a main one and that was how he arrived at the “dead end hallway.” He had never gone past the first hallway _because he had never needed to._

With a mental map stored away, Sans made plans to return later to investigate.

There was something at the end of that hallway--- perhaps whatever was driving Asgore to commit his heinous deeds.

Sans just had to figure out exactly what the dead end was hiding and how to reach whatever that “what” was. The skeleton couldn’t help but feel as if he was getting ready to solve a rather difficult puzzle.

The thought made Sans smirk.

He just so happened to be quite good at solving puzzles.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Autophobia- the fear of being alone
> 
> Though Sans finds himself all alone, he continues in his long search for answers.... I do hope he doesn't get ahead of himself....


	3. Achluo

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Just quiet down. You can hear the wind, and then the footsteps....

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello all! Let's join our little Queen in the next step of this long journey.

“Awaken, My Queen.”

Dull blue S’s flickered behind brightening white pinpoints. Sans pulled himself to rest on his arms.

The silver bracelets stared at him.

Sans glared back at their unwavering gaze before sitting up. He cast his glare at the stone face of the king. “I am awake, My King.” His tongued burned at the title. This monster was no longer his King.

“Very good,” Asgore replied. “I have an important matter to discuss with you.”

Sans rubbed his sockets with the heels of his bony palms. “So early in the morning… My King. May I not have breakfast first?”

“You may think over appropriate matters during breakfast after the discussion.”

Sans bared his tiny fangs, glare still holding. “Very well,” he responded.

Asgore leaned closer, towering form arching over the entire bed with ease. His enormous paw reached up to grip at Sans’ chin, the claw of his thumb threatening to scratch into the bone. Asgore tilted Sans’ snarling face to force the tiny skeleton to look into his smirking facade. “Now, now, My Queen,” Asgore’s voice was a sickening low purr. “You mustn’t appear so sour when we have such a delightful topic to discuss.”

“And what delightful topic would that be…My King?” Sans spat out the title like venom. He knew well enough that he should be focusing on protecting his low health if he wanted to find answers (only 5 HP, despite his Boss Level Status. He hadn’t been able to garner much HoPe since the first major loss of his family and his HoPe had only managed to decrease since then) but after the events that transpired yesterday, the skeleton was finding self-preservation rather difficult (at his darkest hour, for a moment, he entertained forgoing the idea all together). However, the desire for answers, to find out what happened to Toriel, to find out what the King was really planning and maybe even stop his machinations, was enough to pull Sans from the darkest pit of thought.

And maybe… maybe there was a part of him that wanted to make up for his last major loss. He hadn’t managed to save him… but maybe there was still time to save Toriel. He just had to stay careful, stay smart, stay determined.

So, Sans fought hard to fight the grimace that wanted to take over his face as he watched Asgore’s mouth twist into a darken smirk. The tiny monster could already decipher that he was not going to enjoy whatever Asgore wanted to discuss.

The skeleton gulped as Asgore began to speak again.

“The delightful topic I speak of, My Queen, is children.”

Sans’ pinpoints flickered out. The S’s flashed before dimming so low, they almost vanished in the void of his sockets. His body pulled away from the towering goat monster, movement slow, as if he was floating backwards through water. His magic, though sealed (and thus cool and slow moving), now froze to his bones like ice freezing over the ground. His Soul shrunk even more so, and flung itself to the back of his ribcage, as if trying to flee the body his core knew was in danger now. Every part of Sans’ body wanted to escape from Asgore’s grin, from his gigantic paw gripping onto his skull again.

Sans tried to talk for several seconds, but his tongue stuck to the roof of his mouth, his “throat” was dry, an odd sensation akin to what he believed swallowing fine sand would feel like. His voice seemed to be lost in some void inside of him that he never knew existed until now, but he somehow managed to dig around and find the creaking sound again. He gulped and his throat ached.

“...Children, My King?” Sans chided himself for how tiny his voice sounded right now. He didn’t want to be afraid, but fear was the only thing coursing through his bones right now.

“Why, yes, My Queen,” Asgore continued in that slimy, low voice. “In order to prove our rule to be legitimate.”

Legitimate? But…

“You… you and Toriel never-ah!” Sans was yanked closer to Asgore’s face by his massive paw. He cracked a socket open to peer into that deep frown and cold glare full of hate and disgust.

“We do not bring up that name, remember?”

“I…,” Sans gulped. He felt the renegade in him gag at apologizing. He followed the renegade’s lead. “Yes, I remember,” the skeleton snapped. “Your supposed way of grieving, you claim. But that does not answer my intended question--- granted, you did interrupt me before I could ask. Why do you desire a child now when you and Toriel (Asgore bared and fangs, but Sans continued unheeded) made no such effort to… “legitimize your rule” as you put the situation.”

Asgore sighed as he released his hold on Sans, allowing the skeleton to pull away and rub his now aching chin. Sans kept a socket on the king, not sure if his sigh was one of annoyance or exhaustion. He watched the large goat sit on his bed, his weight pulling the mattress to one side, his large hands resting on his knees.

“As my first, there was no rush to have children,” Asgore explained, voice calm and even.

Sans stared and for a moment, a wave of nostalgia washed over him.

This… _this_ was the Asgore he knew. The tired, but calm king, who took his time to think over his answers, who kept his voice soft so as not to intimidate other monsters. This was the mask he had seen the king wear for all these years. Seeing him put on that mask made Sans yearn for days long gone. He shook his skull, trying to remind himself that this Asgore, this Agore sitting before him now, was just that, a mask. The real Asgore was heartless, scheming, selfish and Sans would never fall for his calming voice and kind smile again.

He would, however, listen. Any information he learned about the king or the kingdom was one step closer to answers.

“With no siblings of our own, there was no one with whom to compete against. We had time---or so I thought.” He sighed again, body slumping.

Sans scowled at Asgore’s longing gaze. Mere moments ago, this same monster had berated him for mentioning Toriel, but now he appeared to be having fond memories of their time together. How could he want to forget someone he still seemed to cherish?

 _No, he doesn’t cherish her,_ Sans thought. _He’s putting on an act for me. He still thinks I’m foolish enough to fall for it._

This little event, as well as the story Asgore had given Sans about Toriel’s absence and those hours prior, only added to the doubt the skeleton harbored. He found himself tugging at the straps of his white night gown as his nerves became a little bothered. As brave as Sans was becoming, Asgore’s sudden change in mood only added to his anxiety and kept him on near constant edge. He had to be careful when dealing with Asgore and his ability to fly from one extreme to another in mere seconds.

Done with listening to the false king, Sans pulled himself to the other side of the bed. His bare feet tapped against the marble floor.

“Where are you going, My Queen?”

Sans gulped to calm himself, refusing to let Asgore’s dead tone crawl into his Soul and fester. “I am getting ready for breakfast. I am sorry, King, I do not have any desire to have children with you.”

Best to nip this in the bud, what good confessing may do.

Sans heard the bed creak as Asgore rose to his feet. He whipped around to see Asgore’s glare over his massive shoulder. Sans returned the disapproving look before turning and walking to the armoire in front of him. “If you excuse me, King, I must clean and dress for the day. I will see you at the table for breakfast.”

“Very well,” Asgore grumbled, dark glance still piercing Sans’ Soul. “But are not finished with this conversation, My Queen.”

“Of course, King,” Sans mumbled as he peeked over his shoulder joint to watch Asgore stroll out of his room, shutting the door with a loud thud. The tiny monster sighed, the weight of his anxiety leaving him. He could now move onto his clothing and take his mind away from Asgore’s “delightful topic.”

As Sans filed through his armoire, he noticed that some of his dresses did resemble Toriel’s, appearing as smaller versions of ensembles she had worn. He recognized some attire from different occasions that Toriel had attended: anniversaries, birthdays, holidays… funerals….

…So many funerals….

Sans closed his sockets to hold back tears. He sucked in a deep breath, then released. He had to stay strong, stay alert, stay determined, until he got the answers he sought.

A bath may even help with his task. He trudged to his bathing room to the left and soon was soaking in a tub of warm water, lavender and sea salt. He could already foresee himself cherishing these times alone. Outside of his room, he would have to put on the facade of a Supportive Queen. He planned to let no one discover his lack of magic. He was sure someone would tell the King, which in turn, would give the goat monster reason to attach a party to Sans to attend to the skeleton (an ideal solution if Asgore found out he was sneaking around) and Sans needed his time alone to research and investigate. He knew without a doubt he wasn’t going to let any monster know of his suspicions. The less monsters aware of Asgore’s dark half, the better and Sans wouldn’t need to worry about other monsters crossing the king’s more… flawed side. Sans would also be able to take any risks he deemed necessary without concern for others’ well-being. At least for now….

_You still need to be careful yourself._

“I know…,” he whispered to a phantasmal voice in the back of his skull, a voice he hadn’t heard in years, a voice he was surprised he still recognized. He let that voice replay its warning in his skull, trying to capture more memories from the sound.

All he heard though, was its warning.

_You still need to be careful yourself._

Sans finished soaking and spent long moments drying off. After returning to his room, he chose a layered black and gray dress and long, white gloves and socks. He added a touch of purple eye shadow and blush, then a more peach shade of lipstick. Of course, he didn’t wear make up for Asgore, but for the odd, small power rush the act gave him for some reason he didn’t quite understand, but appreciated all the same.

The last item to complete his look was his silver tiara dazzling with the glowing “stars” of Waterfall. The tiara was meant to be worn on casual days and Sans found he liked the little piece of head wear.

Finished dressing, Sans looked himself over. He tried to prep himself for the day ahead, telling himself he was strong and determined, he would survive this. Despite his encouraging words, a sigh still left his teeth. Sans left his room, Soul tittering on the edge of defeat, and descended the stairs to the main hallway. After a few turns, he arrived to the lavish dining room and he took his jeweled seat beside the king. He casts a bored look over the long mahogany table. While the table was set as if a full crowd would be dining with them, Sans knew only he and the king would be eating alone together at this table, not only now, but probably until….

Until when?

When Sans found answers? When the king decided to give himself up? When the barrier was broken? When a human managed to kill them all?

Sans had no way of knowing what would happen first, what would bring this nightmare all to an end. He hoped he would be able to find solid proof that Asgore was responsible for Toriel’s absence, that he only seemed interested in his rule alone, before a human turned them all to piles of Dust, but in truth, Sans didn’t know. He felt as if now he was on some sort of time limit. A human could fall any second now and wipe them all out and Sans’ last moments would be of him shackled without magic to defend himself.

A part of him, the “darkest hour” part, thought that end wouldn’t be so terrible. He could be reunited with….

No, no, Sans couldn’t give up before even really trying. He couldn’t wait around for a human to fall down here and end his misery. (Doing so could be a wait of years for all he knew.) No, he had to find the truth, he had to bring an end to the facade the king had put on for centuries. He had to find the key to his shackles. No one else could free the skeleton, free the kingdom, except the tiny monster himself.

He felt his Soul warm with what he believed to be his own mixture of Determination.

“My Queen.”

Sans’ Soul shivered at the deep voice from his right, but he kept his composure steady with a sip of juice. He then lowered his porcelain cup to his saucer. “Yes, King?” He didn’t give even a slight glance to the goat monster, instead taking up his fork to dine on his eggs. He felt Asgore’s lingering glare, but the skeleton held his gaze on his food.

“Hm. Well,” Asgore grumbled. “I believe we had something to discuss.”

“I have already told you my answer, Asgore,” Sans replied, voice even and low. “I have no interest in having children with you.”

Asgore’s large fists slammed onto the table, causing the silverware to leap form the clothed surface. Sans jumped along with his utensils before casting a wide-socketed stare at the king. He was about to berate him for acting like a child throwing a tantrum, but the hateful scowl and baring fangs the king wore on his face kept Sans silent.

“You do a great disservice to the kingdom,” Asgore snarled, leaning in closer to the skeleton.

Sans’s teeth sunk into a frown as his sockets narrowed. _He_ was doing a disservice to the kingdom? **_He was doing a disservice to the kingdom!?_** After everything Asgore had let Sans see from him, he had the gall to accuse Sans of being a disservice!? He had spent his whole adult life doing nothing but serving the kingdom. He had helped Toriel devise plans about safety measures, curfews, emergency evacuations, safe houses, attack plans, fundraisers for orphans, funeral arranges, everything to help the kingdom survive the human attacks. And what the hell had Asgore done!? Killed a few children and made some morale-rising speeches, that’s all! How dare he even, _even,_ **EVEN** entertain the idea that Sans was doing the kingdom any sort of disservice!?

Bones trembling in a mix of boiling rage and slight terror, Sans returned the hate filled scowl, determined not only to stay defiant, but to put Asgore in his place. “I have done _nothing_ but serve the kingdom. Along with Toriel, I gave them a place to run and hide, I gave them safe times to leave their homes, I gave them support when family and friends died, I was the one retrieving piles of Dust and handling them like a babe found lost in the woods! And now I am the Queen of this entire Kingdom, or does that mean nothing to you? Do I only mean something to you when you wish for me to bare a child you could not possibly love!?”

Again, a fist slammed on the table. “How dare you imply I would not love my child!”  
”You didn’t love Toriel!” Sans countered. “You were quick to make me your Queen, and for what!? To keep me close so I wouldn’t be a threat to your rule? Is the baby going to be gambling chip, then? I’ll be damned if I bring a child into this world just to be a tool for you to use! I am your Queen, but I refuse to be the mother to your child and I should not have to do so to make anything legitimate after I have time and time again proven my loyalty to you and the kingdom!”

“There is more to loyalty than wearing a crown!” Asgore snapped.

“Yes, like listening to the people,” Sans started. “Supporting their well-being, ensuring their safety--- all things Toriel did without flaw!” The skeleton smirked, dropping his voice to whisper. “Is that why you got rid of her? You feared the kingdom would want only her since she did more than murder children?”

“I did what I had to do,” Asgore sneered back in a hiss.

 _“And I am doing what I have to do---_ picking up where Toriel left off, which doesn’t require me to have a child, as we do not require proof to legitimize our rule.” Sans’ glare harden. “So, then, King, you should stop shadowing the true intent of your words and you tell me the real reason you need me to have a child. After all, **I have no siblings,** so there is no threat there. We appear to have ample time to make such a terrible mistake, do we not? Or are you aware of some time limit that I am not privy to? Or, perhaps you worry about the humans? Why is that, considering how well you murdered the last one?”

 **“I DID WHAT I HAD TO DO!”** Asgore snapped.

 **“YOU TORTURED THAT CHILD!”** Sans yelled. “I heard you--- I was in the Judgement Hall when you tortured---!”

“I killed the human who murdered your brother!” Asgore roared erupting to his feet. “What would you have me do, Comic Sans!? Let it run loose, so it would add more Dust to your brother’s pile!”

Sans bared his quivering fangs. His sharpened phalanges threatened to cut though his gloves as they grabbed at the table clothe. “I should have stopped you,” he whispered, voice a guttural growl. “My brother did not deserve to die… but the way in which you killed that human… no one deserves that sort of horror.”

Asgore sighed. “You are too softhearted, My Queen. You would have us overrun with humans.”

“I would not dare!” Sans refuted. “I….” He gulped down air, clenched his dress as he shook. “I would lock them up, but I would not… I could not possibly….”

Asgore leaned down, muzzle next to Sans would-be ear. “Really? Not even the one who murdered your brother? You would not see to it to suffer? It took away your only remaining family, after all. You would not see to it being punished so severely?”

“I… I… I couldn’t…,” Sans whispered. “Papyrus….”

He couldn’t remember the last time he had spoken his late little brother’s name. He had been afraid to speak that simple word because he knew what would come after: Acknowledging that Papyrus was gone. Sans would never see his brother again, aside from the scarf covered in his Dust which rested under Sans’ pillow. That was as close as they would ever be again.

In this dark hole in the ground, Papyrus had been Sans’ ray of sunshine, his twinkling star. He had been there shepherding monsters to safety during human attacks, holding Sans’ hand when they found Dust of monsters they had known, sleeping on the floor of his bedroom when Sans had nightmares. Papyrus had been the one to suggest a friendlier approach to humans. _“Maybe if we’re just nicer, they’ll be nice, too?”_ Sans hadn’t thought his plan would work. None of the humans had seemed even a bit friendly. Sans warned Papyrus not to attempt his plan.

He should have done something when he saw Papyrus approach the human, arms open in a wide hug, but there had been a part of him that had thought, _Maybe… this will work._

Papyrus’ plan had not worked.

But despite how vicious the human was when they cut Papyrus down, Sans still believed Papyrus would harbor no hard feelings. Papyrus seemed incapable of hate or rage or holding grudges. He had no doubt been cheering the human on until the end.

Sans knew without a doubt that Papyrus wouldn’t want his murderer to suffer for their crime.

“Papyrus wouldn’t want---”

“He can’t want anything anymore,” Asgore interrupted, a sharp edge to his voice as he continued to overshadow Sans. “He is Dust, My Queen. **Dust.** That is why I killed that human, slowly, painfully. Even as it cried and begged, I ripped it to pieces, limb from limb and you know you would have done the same.”

“NO!” Sans screamed as he tried to push Asgore away. However, Sans only pushed himself off the solid wall of monster. He recoiled, flew backward from his seat and piled onto the floor. Ignoring the sharps aches, he glared at the towering king, at the lidded gaze and deep frown that turned his Soul to stone. “I… I am not a monster like you,” Sans growled before scrambling to his feet. He scurried back into the main hall, pushing past concerned staffers before taking random turns, mind clouded with Asgore’s words.

_No, no! I wouldn’t! I would never torture a human! Even if they killed… they killed…._

Huffing, Sans slowed to a stop. His wide sockets, threatening tears, fell onto a familiar hall.

Yesterday’s dead end.

He was back here again….

After staring down the hall for far longer than necessary, Sans began to let his feet lead him to the dead end. Once reached, he let his gloved hands slide over the papered wall. While he felt that engraved design, he felt nothing else, like a handle or knob. He then looked to the ceiling and noted that even Asgore couldn’t reach such a height, so the secret of this wall probably wasn’t above. Sans shifted his gaze to the floor. He squatted down and ran his hands along the molding.

A piece of the white material seemed to wiggle as his phalange grazed the surface.

Sans murmured to himself as he poked harder at the wiggling piece and a moment later, he realized the piece slid into the wall, forming a sort of handhold. Sans made quick work in finding its match, took up both handholds and pulled upward.

The wall slid up with surprising ease.

Still holding the door, Sans peered inside. “What is this?” He stepped into the small room, but had to let go of the wall to go farther. As the wall slid closed, he could make out bookshelves stuffed with tomes to the left of what appeared to be a circular room. With a soft thud of the wall, darkness engulfed the room, as well as Sans. “Darn,” the skeleton muttered, looking around for any source of light.

And he found one.

A thin sliver of light along the floor.

Sans approached the light, reaching out into the darkness, hoping to find a door knob. After all, the sliver of light must be coming from another room. If he could just find a door knob….

But, Sans' hands didn’t come to rest on a door--- at least, not one he could understand.

He could feel cold stone under his gloves, cracked and pitted, unlike the smooth wooden doors of the rest of the castle. Something also seemed to move on this wall, something round.

“Stone… discs?” Sans questioned. “They’re a little heavy,” he deduced as he found he needed both hands to turn what he believed to be the smallest disc. “What is this….? They are more of them? They radiate out…,” Sans realized as his hands followed the circles towards what he assumed was the edge of the door. “Is this some sort of locking system? I didn’t feel any keyholes, no knobs… What’s behind here?” Sans rested the right side of his skull on the cold stone. After a few moments of silence, he thought he could hear wind blowing, though from a distance away.

So, did this door lead outside then?

But, why hide an entrance to the room?

“Hm… maybe it’s a panic room?” Sans questioned. “But, then, why wasn’t I told--- wait….”

The skeleton strained his hearing, trying to decipher what he believed were… footsteps?

A slow, heavy rhythm singing forlorn words.

Wait, if this door led outside… why did the steps sound as if they were tapping against brick or stone? They weren’t any stone or brick paths around the castle. And why was there a slight echo to them as well? Did this door lead to some sort of tunnel or, perhaps a larger room?

Sans froze when he heard the footsteps stop right in front of the door. He glanced down and could see some of the light obstructed by the shadow of whoever stood on the other side. The shadow stood there for several seconds and Sans soon realized the shade was making no attempt to open the door.

Either they didn’t _want_ to open the door….

Or they _couldn’t…._

Sans gulped. _Please don’t be an ally to Asgore. Please don’t tell him I found this place._ “Hello?”

The shadow froze. A few long seconds passed before a voice that Sans didn’t recognize replied.

“.…Hello?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello?


	4. Epistemo

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Talking for a little while

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ah, my apologizes! Wednesday was my birthday, so I took the day off to be lazy and eat junk food all day. It was very nice. As a result though, the update is two days late of course. My apologizes for not letting you all know ahead of time. I really wasn't sure what I would do until the last minute. -_-  
> Well, let's move on to the chapter. It's quite different from the first draft, a lot more information than planned. I really like this version. =3

Sans froze, however… he wasn’t sure why.

After calling out, should one not expect a reply of some sort?

Perhaps Sans froze because, with that single word, he managed to hear the very core of the earth respond to him, a deepness so intense, so rough but sharp, for a moment he thought a chasm had opened on the other side of the door to answer him.

Sans gulped to settle his nerves, to wet his dry tongue and wrestle the muscle from the roof of his mouth. “Uh… um… he-hello there.”

The shadow appeared to shuffle from one foot to the other, as if unsure of what to do, of how to reply.

Sans made the quick choice to continue. “I… I’m sorry if I startled you. I’m just… I’ve never seen this room before, and… I think this is a door? I can’t seem to open it though. Can you open it from your side?”

“I… who is this?”

“Oh!” Sans, sockets widen. Of course the shadow would want to do introductions first! Neither of them knew who the other was, after all. "How rude of me. I’m….” Sans looked to the darkness in thought, teeth frowning. “Well, technically, I’m the Queen, but, you may call me Sans.”

“Sans… like… Comic Sans, the font?”

“Why, yes.”

“Are… are you a Font Skeleton?”

Sans stared at the door, curious. No one knew about the different species of Skeletons since, well… there weren’t any of them left. Most had fallen in the war, the survivors succumbing to all manner of post-traumatic stress disorder. One way or another, the Skeleton Species erased themselves, some even vanishing in large groups all at once, if the history books were to be believed. The remaining species were referred to as “Skeletons” from that point on. Sans had never met anyone that recognized he was a Font Skeleton. The fact that the shadow seemed to figure out Sans true nature.… Could they be…?

Sans leaned in closer. “Yes… Yes, I’m a Font Skeleton.”

“Really? I’m a Skeleton, too!”

Sans’ sockets widen again, and, this time, his Soul lifted to the top of his rib cage. “Really!?” All this time, Sans thought he was the last of his race, but now….! “I haven’t been with my kind is so long! What species of Skeleton are you?”

“I’m a Spectral.”

“Spectral?” Sans questioned. “But… I thought… didn’t the Spectrals all die out centuries ago?”

“...No, not quite…. You… You don’t know where this door leads, do you?”

Sans stared in silence for a brief moment. “I don’t know. I thought this door led outside since I can hear the wind.”

“It’s wind, but it’s not coming from outside your castle. It’s coming up the staircase.”

“Up the staircase?” Sans inquired. And, for some reason Sans couldn’t decipher, dread seized his Soul. “…So, that would mean the staircase is going...?”

The shadow took a few seconds to answer, as if sensing Sans’ apprehension. “…Down.”

Sans gulped. “To where?”

“...The Basement.”

Sans blinked. “Excuse me? Why are you in our basement? Wait, how long has the castle had a basement? No one informed me---”

“No, no, listen,” "Shadow" interrupted. “That’s the name of this place. The Basement, it… it’s a prison, little Font.”

Sans’ sockets grew large as his teeth set in a deep frown.

Prison…?

Prison!?

No, no, no! The castle did not have a prison! Sans would know if the castle had a prison! He would have been involved in any punishment process alongside the Queen and King--- he had been the tie breaker in many decisions. He would have been involved in such a delicate matter! He would have been informed! He would have known there was prison!

“No,” Sans nodded. “No! We do not have a prison! I would know if we have a prison! You must be mistaken! You have to be! There is no way Toriel would have allowed… We do not have a prison!!”

“...Ya do, little Font.”

And there was such certainty in Shadow’s voice that Sans’ denial began to crack.

“It’s been here for hundreds of years.”

“...Hundreds…,” Sans whispered.

“...It’s where mah ancestors were forced t’go.”

Sans blinked again, attention snapping into focus. “So… they didn’t die out? They’ve been in this… this prison. But why? What crime did they commit?”

“Ya would probably call it treason, little Font. They stood up to Asgore.”

Sans leaned in closer, captivated. “They stood up to Asgore? What did he do?”

“From tha books I’ve read, they spoke of him being crazed. Suspicious, paranoid. He wasn’t worried just about humans, _but of other monsters._ He seemed to believe others thought him incapable of ruling because he wasn’t working fast enough t’break the barrier. Instead of voicing his concerns, he cast aside anyone he saw as a threat. Mah ancestors, all the Spectrals, were the first on his list. It was after the war they noticed his personality changing and they grew worried that he would go mad one day and treat everyone as traitors.”

Sans shifted his weight a bit. “So that’s it… He really does care more about his rule than the kingdom’s well-being. Oh, Gods Above and Below, the pressure to break the barrier must have been enormous when the monsters first arrived here. But still…. That does not excuse his actions. A King should never treat his subjects as traitors unless he has concrete proof.”

“I suppose the whispers of a possible ousting were enough fer him,” Shadow replied. “I don’t think my ancestors planned on killing Asgore or anything. At the least, they would have given him the opportunity to step down. And maybe that’s when… when the slaughter happened….”

Sans felt his Soul tighten. “Sl-slaughter?”

“He didn’t just force Spectrals down here, little Font. He killed a few hundred first.”

Sans felt his spine give out and he was forced to rest all of his weight against the door so as not to collapse. “He… he wouldn’t… He wouldn’t….”

“They tried to fight back, but… not even all of their magic was strong enough to stop him. He killed far more than he needed to, then forced the rest into the Basement to suffer in darkness and cold.”

Tears shook in Sans wide sockets.

This… this couldn’t be true. Not even Asgore would be cruel enough to….

But everything fit into the narrative Sans found himself in.

The Spectrals hadn’t died out due to the war. They had voiced their concerns to Asgore, only to be slaughtered and imprisoned. And since “history was written by the victors,” of course Asgore could say they had all fallen due to “complications of the war,” perhaps even saying he _had_ to slaughter them because the war had made them crazed and dangerous. With so many Skeletons suffering at the time in myriad of ways, the lie would be easy to swallow.

…Had other Skeletons fallen to the same fate as the Spectrals? Could they have tried to remove Asgore, only to be slaughtered, imprisoned, and then recorded as dying from the war’s upsetting outcome?

And he hadn’t stopped at the Skeletons. The empty positions of power that were never filled, even after Sans arrived, Toriel’s disappearance…. They may have all fallen prey to this dreadful Basement.

And Sans’ Soul almost collapsed in on itself as a realization slithered down his spine.

He could be next.

There was nothing stopping Asgore from throwing _him_ in the Basement.

Sans had no magic to defend himself; Asgore could toss him down there with no trouble.

Knowing this just made Asgore’s desire for children all the worse. He would use that child to bend the kingdom to his will, especially if Sans also “went in his sleep.” Either that, or he would use the child to keep Sans in line with his demands.

Gods Above and Below, what if Asgore found them both worthless or a problem and---

 _No!_ Sans bared his teeth as the tears fell, his hands forming shaking hands.

No, he just couldn’t… this was too much! Too much to believe, too much to take in! He had to calm down, just calm down!

Sans took a deep breath, another, another, until his Soul loosened. He didn’t want to get ahead of himself, that would just cause a loss in focus.

First, he didn’t even know if the monster he was speaking with was even, well, a Monster, let alone a Skeleton.

“Hm, I hope you can forgive me for holding doubts,” Sans started. “This is all just…overwhelming. Granted, such a story does fit into Asgore’s current behavior,” he admitted. “After calming down, I realize that I cannot see you, so I do not know if you really are a Skeleton.”

“Well, can’t say I blame ya,” Shadow admitted. “I mean, I’m just a voice on tha other said of a door, after all. Hm…. Okay, how about this?”

…And moments later, Sans heard the most beautiful sound in the Underground:

Bones rattling, teeth clacking.

He heard the sounds only a Skeleton could produce.

Tears came to Sans’ sockets again. He hadn’t heard his kind’s language in ages. The rattles and clacks brought back memories of his father and brother, both taken too soon in such cruel endings.

After his brother’s murder, Sans had forced himself to accept that he would never hear those warm sounds again and yet….

‘Sorry if it’s a little jumbled,’ Shadow rattled. ‘Haven’t really needed to talk like this in a while.’

Sans clacked in return ‘It’s okay! I haven’t had to talk like this in a long time, either. You have no idea how wonderful it sounds, though!’

Relief weakened Sans’ knee caps and he slid down to the floor. He covered his mouth to stifle his sobs, but the tears flowed without concern. “…Thank you….”

“You’re welcomed, but listen….”

Sans made quick work of drying his face. “What’s wrong?”

“No one is supposed to know we’re down here--- that’s why the door is hidden.”

“How do you know it’s hidden?”

Shadow sighed. “Because it’s mah job t'come get the “prisoners” and show 'em around. They’ve told me about the room being hidden behind a secret wall. Obviously, big bad goat boy don’t want anyone to know about it. It’ll only cause your kingdom to panic or rise up or something. Either way, we already know Asgore ain’t above killing monsters.”

Sans nodded, but couldn’t help but notice a few key phrases in Shadow’s answer.

“Mah job”, “show them around”, “your kingdom”.

Who had given him this job? Show them around where exactly? And sure, he had all reason to hate Asgore, but Shadow still lived in this kingdom, so why use the phrase “your kingdom” as opposed to just “the kingdom”?

“Hm, hey,” Sans started. “Oh, wait, I don’t know your name.”

“It’s…don’t freak out, okay?”

Sans tilted his skull, curious. “…All right.”

“Ya know how Spectrals are named after a shade of their Soul color, and then, if they master their magic, they take on the “general name” of their color?”

“...Yes.”

Shadow sighed. “…My real name is Crimson….”

Sans stared wide. “…A shade of… red.”

“Red down here don’t quite mean the same thing as it does up there. Magic is different down here, but “red magic” is still really rare. And… Red, I go by Red.”

“So, you’ve mastered your magic?”

“It’s more like… I’m really good at using red talismans.”

“Talismans?”

“We have to use, like, little charms, to use magic down here. Red magic down here is called Disregard. I can… ignore the effects of other magic.”

Sans gawked again. “So… magic doesn’t work on you at all?”

“As long as my Disregard Talisman is charged, yeah, magic, um, “Basement Magic” I should say, has no effect on me.”

“Amazing,” Sans whispered. “And you said, showing the prisoners around is your job. Did someone give you that job and where exactly are you showing them around?"

Red chuckled. “Well, thanks. And yeah, I got appointed t'do this and, as fer where I’m showing ‘em, well,” Red chuckled again. “Let’s just say, mah ancestors didn’t much care fer sittin’ around in tha dark and cold. They _made something_ of this place.”

“Made something?”

“Little Font, The Basement is supposed to be a prison, but mah ancestors made it much more than that.”

And Sans understood. “It’s another kingdom now, isn’t it? That’s why you said “your kingdom” and not “the kingdom.”

“Heh, you pick up on stuff quick, little Font. Just make sure to keep this a secret from the goat and…. Oh, fuck, what am I doing!? Sans, you can’t be here!”

Sans pulled back. “Wha-what? I don’t---”

“I told you earlier, no one is supposed t'know about this place! If Asgore finds out you know his dirty little secret he’ll toss you down here, too, and this place ain’t all sunshine and rainbows. And don’t tell anyone neither! None of ya are strong enough to fight Asgore. If my entire species couldn’t kill him, ya guys certainly can’t! Now get out of here!”

“But, I…you’re in prison--- you’re not supposed to be down there!” Sans cried.

“Little Font… I _grew_ up here. This is all I know. This is all _all of us know._ This is home.”

Sans' spine sunk.

Red was right. He was born in The Basement. As far as he knew, The Basement was his home. Sans had no right to take Red from that.

“Besides… “Basement Magic” don’t work up there in The Attic.”

“The Attic?”

“That’s what we call yer kingdom. Since we’re The Basement, yer The Attic. Anyway, Attic Magic runs at a higher frequency than Basement Magic. My Soul wouldn’t be able to attune to it and without the frequency of the Basement, I can’t use my talismans. I need t'be down here t'use any magic. But, that’s not tha biggest issue at tha moment. Little Font, Asgore is tha only one who knows how t'open tha door.”

Sans slapped his forehead. “Of course he’s the only one! He’s the only one who knows about this place.”

“And yer gonna make sure it _stays that way._ Like I said, I’m pretty sure tha moment someone finds out about The Basement, that’s it’s a “prison” full of hundreds of monsters, they’re gonna want answers, answers Asgore isn’t gonna wanna give. That’s one more monster "dead" or dead, ya picking up what I’m putting down?”

“Yes,” Sans sighed. “I just… I just don’t think it’s fair. I mean, you said the place wasn’t “sunshine and rainbows,” so it’s hard living there, isn’t it?”

“Well… yeah, there’s… problems. I mean, it _was_ supposed to be a prison, so it ain’t perfect like The Attic… far from it in some places, but… we make do.”

“You shouldn’t have to “make do,” Sans countered. “Your home should be comfortable and safe, not a place that “was supposed to be a prison.” And if you do see yourself as a kingdom, then as a queen of a neighboring kingdom, we should be friends, shouldn’t we? And maybe, in time, both of our kingdoms can overthrow Asgore! You all can at least agree that he’s dangerous, yes?”

“Little Font… I mean, okay, maybe ya have a point, but---”

“Then, I just need to find a way to open the door, correct?”

“Little Font,” Red growled in warning.

“I won’t let anyone know!” Sans promised.

“Sans.”

The tiny skeleton froze.

“You need to leave. Leave and forget about this place, forget about me. …You’ll be a lot safer if you do.”

And Sans stared at the shadow retreating from the door, replacing midnight black with dim white light.

Red was gone.

Sans sat in the silence and darkness, hoping that Red would come back, but after long, quiet minutes, the tiny skeleton had to pull himself to his feet. He shuffled his way across the room then felt around for the door by running his hands along the molding. Once he created the handholds, he pulled the door upward only a few inches, not wanting to reveal himself to Asgore, who he felt would become enraged at the sight of the Queen who had denied him all morning by both word and action. Sans also didn’t want to reveal the room to any staff member and get someone innocent involved in his troubles.

The hall clear, Sans stepped out of the room, then lowered the door to avoid any noise. He started for the stairs to head to his room, his skull spinning with swirling thoughts and questions.

Had his conversation with Red really happened? The last several minutes felt like someone’s dream or vague memory.

Though tired in every sense of the word, Sans wanted to piece everything together before his exhausted mind forced him to sleep the moment he saw his bed.

For hundreds of years, Asgore had been worried about his losing his rule, so much in fact he was willing to kill and imprison anyone he saw as a threat. That led to the existence of The Basement. Had Asgore found or created that place? At this point, how Asgore had come about The Basement didn’t matter. What did matter was the fact he was using this prison to lock away anyone he saw as a obstacle, then using their disappearance to strengthen his own rule--- The Skeletons had been “dangerous”; all those empty positions, those may have belonged to monsters who had asked the wrong questions to Asgore. They were “traitors” and had to be removed.

And Toriel….

“I should have asked if Red had seen her,” Sans whispered. The skeleton was now sure Toriel had also fallen prey to The Basement. Asgore must have faked her death somehow with what Sans hoped was fake Dust. The cause of his actions must have been all those arguments Asgore had had with Toriel  after he killed that child. He probably saw her as roadblock to his methods and forced her down there in the early morning hours when everyone was asleep upstairs---where no one would have heard her calling for help…. Her voice wouldn’t have been as loud as the emergency sirens, after all….

“But, she’s at least alive,” Sans reassured himself. “She has to be…. If I can just get in contact with Red… but how….? I can’t open the door and… wait….” Sans tapped his chin in thought. “Didn’t he say his job was to see if a new “prisoner” had been locked away? So, then… he’ll have to come back and check to see if anyone has shown up. And since he came so close to the door, he must have to walk all the way up the stairs to check for prisoners. So… he’ll come to the door again. I just have to wait….”

But for how long before Asgore found out Sans knew about The Basement?

“Maybe he comes around the same time everyday? So, in the middle of breakfast, I can return to the door. I’ll just finish eating early and excuse myself to the library. It’s large enough that if someone can’t find me, it won’t seem too odd. Then I ask Red about Toriel….” Sans lowered in skull in thought. “She’s probably safer down there, but if I can get Red to tell her that I know the truth, maybe she can organize a resistance….?” Sans sighed. “No, by now, everyone down there is used to The Basement. They have no ties to The Attic, so they wouldn’t want to fight. An added thorn is that their magic doesn’t work up here. Maybe there’s a way to make the talismans work on The Attic’s frequency…. Hrm… If I could only contact their leadership. If they’re led by a Spectral Skeleton, maybe I can get them to understand that with our two kingdoms we can end Asgore’s rule…. Right, I’ll get in contact with Red. Ask him about Toriel and, if he can reach her, tell her to start looking for others who would want to fight. I can ask Red to talk to his leadership. But if we’re to meet, if The Basement is to lean aid, I have to figure out how to open the door. I can only hope there is some record of its existence…. Probably not in the library. No, too public. However, the secret room had many books…. The answer may lay in there…. Ah, I will need candles….” Sans opened the door to his room. “How will I carry them on me without appearing suspicious. Maybe I can sneak a few books back to my---?”

Sans stopped short at Asgore standing at the window near his bed, looking over the landscape.. “King! What... do you need something?”

The giant of a monster did not turn around, but Sans could see the forlorn look on his face in the window’s reflection. “My apologizes. I could not find you, so I waited for you here. Where did you go, My Queen?”

“I…” Sans tugged at his dress. “I took a simple walk around the castle.”

“You were so beautiful, so perfect. Where did you go?” Asgore whispered to the window.

Sans stared, sockets squinting in confused concern.”….King?”

“All you had to do was be good…stand aside, be good…. be quiet…. Where did you go?”

Sans remained at the door, not wanting to be far from an exit. He studied the king’s reflection in the window, could see the shadows on Asgore’s face appear to advance his age, the dark masses highlighting wrinkles. Right now, Asgore looked as old as his years suggested. The elder face sent a shiver down Sans’ spine.

Asgore murmured to himself moments longer before growing quiet. He turned to Sans, the shadows lifting. “My Queen. Where did you scurry off to after breakfast?”

 _‘He’s losing his mind,’_ Sans thought. _‘All these centuries of paranoia… he doesn’t realize he was talking to someone who’s not here… Best not to bring it up.'_ “My apologies,” Sans replied. “I took a walk outside.”

“You much have traveled a great way,” Asgore noted. “As no one could find you on the castle grounds.”

“Well, I did have a… running start, at it were,” Sans grumbled.

Asgore’s eyes narrowed. “You will do well not to wonder off. A human could appear at any moment.”

 _‘Well, you could return my magic to me so I may defend myself.’_ “Of course, King. I will be more careful and considerate,” Sans spoke.

Asgore studied Sans’ rather neutral expression before marching towards the door, all but forcing Sans to step aside. “I have asked the librarian to bring you books about child rearing. You will do well to read them.”

Sans glared. “I told you, I do not want to have children with you.”

Asgore growled. “I grow tired of your insolence!” A giant paw flashed from behind Asgore’s cloak and grabbed Sans by both wrists. With ease, the goat monster yanked the skeleton off the ground, strength so overbearing, Sans feared his arms bones would be pulled from his sockets.

Snarling away the pain, Sans was glowering socket to eye with Asgore.

“Listen to me well, My Queen. You will be having my child, so I suggest you prepare yourself for motherhood. I will hear no more of your defiance.” The towering goat tossed the skeleton to the tiled floor.

Sans hissed as he landed on his shoulder joint, but he refused to let Asgore see the discomfort he had caused him. _‘He loves to torture others. I will not give him the satisfaction.’_ Sans rose to his feet, sockets narrow and hands curling to fists. His Soul all but dared Asgore to attack.

Asgore huffed. “You will wait in your room for your books and begin to study.”

Sans didn’t reply as Asgore marched out and slammed the door.

“I spit on your name, Asgore,” Sans cursed as he rubbed his shoulder joint. “But please, supply me with books, as many as you wish,” the skeleton smirked. “They’ll be the perfect forest to hide all my trees.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My, my, we learned a lot. Asgore has been quite the paranoid one for quite some time and has even killed to keep his rule in order. Now he just seems to toss people down to the The Basement, which seems to have become rather livable over the centuries. Perhaps Red can tell us more if Sans is able to talk to him again.


	5. Topo

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> There is so much to know....

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello all! Let's learn about babies, then sneak around for answers!

Sans sighed as he glanced over pages and pages of information he had already been taught by his attentive late father. He needed something more to do other than enjoy the fact that Asgore was irritated at the skeleton for keeping to himself for the rest of the day, eating lunch, dinner and dessert alone in his bedroom. Asgore seemed to be retaliating by sending more and more overall useless books to Sans’ room, the topics ranging from easing the weeks or months of pregnancy to having a comfortable birth and motherhood, to general child rearing tips.

The skeleton read the books to assuage his boredom, having been taught the basics back when he first came into puberty (in his case, when the S’s in his sockets blinked on for the first time.):

Monsters fused Souls to have children, the process intimate but borderline overwhelming on both the emotions and the body. In short, Fusion was an incredible sensation shared between monsters who loved each other and wanted their magic and Souls to come together and create something new.

When the Souls separated, a piece of one monster’s Soul remained in the “mother’s” Soul and together, the two Souls created a new one while the body grew within the mother’s womb. When the child was born, their Soul followed and magic and essence came together to create a new monster.

This was information that was clear cut to Sans.

…However, the subject of “possible complications” caught his attention. He had never known of monsters having any sort of complications in having children. Being made of more magic than solid matter, monsters had little to worry about on the subject of physical ailments. Many diseases that plagued humanity weren’t a problem for monsters--- they simply did not have the physical body to house viruses and bacteria. Their magic, however, was subject to their emotions, the magic surrounding them and the Intent aimed at them, and so, sometimes a monster's magic could overload their body or become unusable for a short time, but these ailments were easy to cure if the emotional cause was identified and rectified.

So… what possible complications would monsters have to warrant an entire section about the topic?

… **Forced Fusion**?

_‘When one **Soul** is forced against the monster’s will to fuse with another monster’s Soul. If there is strong **Intent** behind the action, the desired outcome will come about with negative side effects and consequences, the most dire being a **Heartsick Soul.’**_

Sans squinted, confused. He had never heard of a Heartsick Soul….

_‘A **Heartsick Soul** is a Soul birthed as a result of a **Forced Fusion**. They are often ombre in color, starting with a dark shade of the mother’s Soul and darkening into black. The Soul itself appears to be dripping a thick sludge substance, droplets of which evaporate before hitting any surface.’_

Sans couldn’t help but gag at the mental image. He could see past the color, but “dripping a thick sludge substance”---what exactly was the Soul dripping? Magic? Droplets of itself? Why a thick sludge? He could only imagine what that sounded like outside of the monster’s body. He shivered, before continuing with the next paragraph.  

_‘The minds/consciousnesses of those with a Heartsick Soul is often high above average from the point of conception; full awareness and sentience is often observed. Despite this, Heartsick Souls are prone to a myriad of mental/mood disorders due to their Forced conception. These disorders include, but may not be limited to:_

_Depression (treatable); Bi-Polar Disorder (manageable, no cure); Oppositional Defiant Disorder (treatable); Antisocial Personality Disorder (manageable, no cure); Anxiety (treatable); Self-harm (treatable); Suicidal ideation (treatable); schizophrenia (manageable, no cure); Intermittent Explosive Disorder (manageable, no cure); low self esteem (treatable)._

_Additional treatment beyond **magic therapy** and talk therapy include a strong social anchor, such as a parent, teacher or doctor. On a physical level, Heartsick Souls do not appear to exhibit any problems.’_

Sans paused again, letting his mind sit on the information for a few minutes. So, a Heartsick Soul could be aware of itself within moments of conception. Could they tell they had been forced to exist, that they were a product of a most heinous act? Sans couldn’t conceive what being aware of such a fact would feel like. He imagined the feelings reached a level of sadness and rage he had never experienced or seen.

He had to make himself continue the rest of the passage.

_‘However, **magic** is erratic in behavior, dangerous and, at times, both magic and **statistics** exhibit properties unseen in other monsters._

_Such properties include, but are not limited to: **magic types mixing** (ex: an orange barrier discharging yellow projectiles); the use of more than one type of magic (ex: able to use both Light Blue and Yellow magic in separate instances or at the same time, much like **Boss Level Monsters** without the appropriate statistics); constant high **Intent** that can not be overrode by magic, word, or action; bypassing some limits of the **FIGHT system,** should the system be in use; gaining larger than average amounts of **EXP** which are often used for additional statistic slots that other monsters do not have. These slots may include Dexterity, Speed, Luck, Faith, Resistance, Intelligence, Charisma, Wisdom, Constitution, Vitality, Endurance, Strength, Perception and so on. Note that some names are interchangeable and so, refer to the same type of statistic. Further note that these properties and statistics vary among Heartsick Souls and due to overall secrecy of such Souls, not all information could be recorded.’_

Sans tapped his chin in thought. Given this information, but he could imagine that Heartsick Souls were an obvious product of the war. Monsters were just as numerous as humans before the conflict, so a great panic must have overtaken the race when they saw their numbers fall in, more or less, an instant. Desperate to survive, they must have….

Sans rubbed his temples. He couldn’t begin to visualize what sort of hell that must have been, being forced to carry a Soul that would only become Heartsick upon birth. What had been the initial reaction to Heartsick Souls? Fear must have been felt first, then, perhaps even hate for such misunderstood monsters. He could see some having a (morbid) curiosity towards them. He hoped no one had tried to suggest they could be used as weapons against the humans. Sans bared his tiny fangs at an idea he could picture Asgore having.

Either that, or he saw those new Souls as a threat as well….

“Disgusting,” Sans growled as he slammed the book closed. He glanced over his bedside table clock and saw that both hands were pointed to the crescent moon on the left hand side of the clock’s face. “…I should head to bed, but.…”

At this late at night, no one would be awake….

Sans slid from his bed, put on his slippers and grabbed a candle and match from the drawer of the bedside table. Wearing nothing but a long t-shit and shorts, Sans snuck into the hall and locked his door. He didn’t dare light the candle in fear of attracting any attention, despite how late the hour was. Step by slow step, he made his way downstairs to the first floor, then crept his way to the hidden door. He put the candle and match in his shorts pocket, felt for the handholds and pulled up the door just enough to bend over and slip inside. He lowered the door, then lit the candle to shine the tiny flame around the circular room. The stone walls were covered in stuffed bookshelves for the most part. One of these books must hold information on the door….

With a determined sigh, Sans decided to start with the bookcase closest to him on his left, shining the flame closer to the thick tomes. At this point, even a page about the door would be enough to satisfy his need for information.

“Hm, these look like records of some sort,” Sans murmured. He pulled out a thick bundle of paper and flipped to a page near the front. “ Just a list of names… a population census, maybe? Or…. maybe even everyone who survived the war…. hm….” Sans put the book back and shined the candle along the bookcase. “All of these appear similar… They can’t be population records, hiding them here would make no sense… Actually, putting war records here would make no sense either….” Sans continued to scan bookshelves, ever so often picking out and glancing through the pages. More names, some he recognized from previous books. The records must have been periodically updated. Sans kept looking for any books that stood out from the rest, taking care to scan each spine until he noticed something odd about two books that were sitting next to each other in the middle of a shelf. He had to double check to make sure the flame's light wasn't playing with his sockets, but yes--- there was a sudden and drastic decrease of size between the two books and the smaller size continued on.  

Sans pulled the larger book from the shelf first and opened to a random page. “These still look like population or war records, but then why is the next book so thin? It’s as if a huge amount of monsters just---” Sans’ sockets widen. “Oh no…. oh no, no, please, no….’ Sans flipped through the large book, to the S’s.

Spectrals.

Total: 1,300.

All 1,300 listed.

He pulled out the thinner book, flipped to the S’s

Spectrals.

Total:

“Zero….” Sans whispered. “Exterminated/imprisoned due to threatening the safety of the kingdom….” In a slight panic, Sans pulled out another book, flipped to a page.

A list of names… and this one had addresses included… but some of the addresses were crossed out.

“Imprisoned… imprisoned… exterminated… imprisoned… exterminated…. Gods Above and Below, he started keeping track,” Sans whispered, teeth forming a quivering frown. “These started out as population records, but he turned them into a record of….” Sans took the candle and shined its light to the other bookshelves. “He must make a new book every so often, maybe after so many monsters are killed and imprisoned. If he makes a new book every time he hits a certain number…. Gods, even if it was a new book for every hundred he’s removed…. that’s still thousands of monsters….”

Sans’ hand came to his teeth as he realized that he wasn’t in a library. He was in a paper morgue.

Before the shock could overwhelm him, Sans heard the familiar tapping of foot steps from across the room, near the stone door.

…Was Red coming back?

Sans padded over to the door only to stop short. With the candlelight, he was able to see the circles radiating over the door. They seemed to be painted with the colors representing magic, starting with red in the middle, the rarest magic among monsters, and ending with green, healing magic, the most common. Did this order of colors hold some clue in opening the door?

Sans used his free hand to play around the smallest circle, the sound of stone grinding against stone catching the attention of the footsteps on the other side.

“What are ya doin’? Hurry up so I can get some fuckin’ sleep.”

“Red, it’s me.” Sans called.

“Little Font? Sans, what did I tell ya---”

“It’s fine,” Sans replied, still spinning the innermost circle. “It’s late over here, everyone’s asleep.”

“That don’t matter! Asgore could drag anyone in here at any time!”

“Is that why you came back? How often do you check the door?”

“About…. Nope! I ain’t tellin'! I ain’t givin' ya no clues t’try t’meet me!”

“Hm… I would assume early in the morning, maybe once in the evening and late at night? Ideal times to sneak around with little notice.”

“Asgore don’t care,” Red grumbled. “He tricks monsters into tha room one way or another. That’s why ya can’t be in here.”

“I assure you, I am safe. No one has done anything to upset Asgore.”

“I don’t think it takes much at this point…,” Red muttered.

“If it makes you feel better, I came here to see if I could find a book about the door,” Sans spoke, as he stopped spinning the red circle when the stone refused to give up any secrets.

“What? Why?”

“To see if one told me how to open---”

“I told ya, I can’t---”

“I know, I know,” Sans interrupted. “But I thought if we could… perhaps re-attune your talismans to the frequency of The Attic, then maybe you could fight.”

“I… well, maybe in theory?”

Sans smiled. “Theory is good enough. Now, I have to ask some questions of you.”

Red sighed. “Make it quick, Little Font.”

“Did you meet someone named Toriel a few weeks ago?”

“Ah… yeah… yeah, I did.”

Sans gaped. “Really? A white goat monster?”

“Yeah. Real sweet, like a mom."

“That’s her!” Sans cheered. “Thank Ink Above, she’s alive! Where is she, do you know?”

“Yeah. There’s this little cottage a ways from here. She feeds me leftovers sometimes. Looks tired a lot, though. I imagine she ain’t used t’being down here. I told her I’d take her back to tha castle, but she likes it out here. Place gives me the creeps.”

Sans cocked a brow bone. Red sounded like a big skeleton (then again, Spectrals were large to begin with). What would make the skeleton uneasy? “Why does that place scare you?”

“Sometimes… there’s just… I guess, shadows… some kinda things, they stand out in the woods… Ugh…. Anyway, yeah, she’s down here.”

Sans smiled and wiped away a few tears. “That’s wonderful,” he whispered. “Ahem, okay. Red, you mentioned a castle. So, you have your own royalty.”

“Yeah, mah brother.”

Sans almost dropped his candle. “Your brother!?”

“Yep. He ain’t married, so he’s just a Prince, but he’s the Big Boss, nonetheless.”

“I see. And what might his name be?”

Red chuckled. “Okay, fer real, don’t tell no one this. Canary, a shade of yellow.”

Sans giggled. “That’s so cute.”

“Don’t let him hear that,” Red laughed.

“But, still, this is great,” Sans smiled. “I was hoping that whoever was in charge was a Spectral. They would understand how dangerous Asgore is and agree that we need to stop him.”

“Sans, we can’t just fight---”

“Red, please,” Sans interrupted in a low murmur. “I… you’ve seen the books in here, when the door opens, correct? Red… they’re a record of everyone still in The Attic and everyone who’s sent to The Basement. One thousand, three hundred. That’s how many Spectrals were “exterminated/imprisoned for being a threat”.”

There was a heavy silence for long seconds.

“... I’ll talk t’him about it.”

Sans sighed. “Thank you, Red. I was going to ask you to speak to Toriel for me, too, but since she’s still adjusting, I really do no want to burden her.”

“She’s definitely in the depression stage of grief, yeah.”

Sans turned around and leaned against the door.

“Hey,” Red called.

“Yes?”

“Didcha find anythin’ else?”

“Nothing beyond Asgore’s records. I’ll keep looking though…. But, you really cannot open the door from your side?”

“Door’s completely flat over here. I can hear tha circles turn sometimes, but they all sound the same t’me, so I can’t tell if there’s a certain order to spinnin’ ‘em.”

Sans sighed again. “Then I will have to keep looking.”

“Just be careful, aight?” Red growled. “This place can chew ya up real bad if you ain’t careful. I… I wouldn’t want ya t’deal with that.”

Sans looked over his shoulder to the door. “Red, I… I’m sure I’d be okay… I’ve dealt with Asgore well enough.”

“He’s only one monster, though,” Red pointed out. “Don’t take long fer a pack of ‘em t’figure out if ya an easy target.”

Sans turned to face the door again. “Is any place in The Basement safe?”

“Eh, well… the first area, it’s called Autumn Falls. Lots of falling leaves, lots of yellow and orange, but there’s… things that stand in the woods.”

Sans could hear the shiver in Red’s voice. “Um, what other places are there?”

“Oh… um… well, Winter Freezes is after that. That’s the place ya gotta be careful in,” Red warned. “Counterfeit talismans, illegal tradin’, muggin’s, it’s a mess, really. Mah bro ain’t figured out what t'do about it,” the Spectral admitted. “After that… ug, Spring Blooms.”

“What’s wrong with that one? It sounds nice,” Sans replied.

“They don’t do shit there!” Red groaned. “Everyone’s a lazy ass.”

Sans chuckled. Hearing Red speak with little restraint was refreshing.

“Yeah, so I just walk straight through,” Red continued. “And pick up somethin’ like an apple off a cart and just walk off and no one stops me.”

“Red! You can’t just steal!” Sans berated.

“Ain’t no one gone do nothin’” And Sans could imagine Red waving off his concerns. “Anyway,” the Spectral continued, “ Summer Heats is the exact opposite: Everything’s ordered and structured. There’s time limits and shit. Real stifling, but mah bro loves it of course.”

Sans giggled. “I think my brother would have liked that place. He was always nagging me to keep things clean and orderly. It eventually just… rubbed off on me when I became adviser, though.”

“...Sans?”

“Yes?”

“Ya, um… talkin’ in tha past tense there.”

“Yes…,” Sans whispered. “My brother died several months ago. He was murdered by a human.”

“...I’m sorry….,” Red whispered. “I… wow, I… I don’t think I could… Sans, that’s some amazin’ strength ya got.”

Sans blushed. “Well, I… I suppose…. It was extremely difficult to get to this point and it’s even harder now that I’ve been forced into being Queen. But….”

“...Yeah?”

“I… I feel a little better talking to you,” Sans admitted in a small voice. “I haven’t been able to tell anyone about Asgore because I don’t want anyone to get hurt. It’s just… a relief to talk to someone freely about all of this.”

“Well… I still think it’s dangerous fer ya t’come out here, but… I’m glad I can make this easier fer ya.”

“Thank you,” Sans smiled. “Could you tell me more? About The Basement.”

“Well, all that’s left is Tha Sun and Tha Moon. Tha Sun charges tha ambient magic in tha air t’speed up tha talisman recharge rate. All tha official talismans are created by Tha Sun. Tha Moon is just the name of the castle. Real swanky place. My bro likes interior designin’, but ya didn’t hear that from me.”

Sans giggled again and he had a feeling Red was smirking at his laughter.

“I’m not really into that sort of stuff, though,” Red continued. “As long as I got tha necessary furniture, I don’t really care what any of it looks like, ya know? How ‘bout ya?”

“I used to be a lot like that,” Sans admitted. “Then I became adviser and I sort of had to get a knack for it.”

“How’d ya end up adviser anyway?”

“Just talking to Toriel a lot,” Sans answered. “I’d see her walking around and chat with her. She’d tell me about a problem and I’d just give advice that turned out to work. She asked me to help in a more official capacity and I said yes. I didn’t know how much work it would be, but… I don’t know, Tori was always there to help me and I just became used to workload. … I had no idea it would turn out like this, though….”

Red murmured. “Ya know, ya should be headin’ back soon.”

Sans looked into the darkness. “I suppose so…. I just….”

“What is it?”

“If all of these books are just Asgore’s… prison records, then I may not find a way to open the door.”

“Look, don’t worry ‘bout that,” Red spoke. “I mean, if mah brother ain’t cool with this, it won’t matter, right?”

Sans whipped around. “It will always matter!” he snapped. “We’re all sitting next to a ticking time bomb! You said so yourself that Asgore could send someone to The Basement, or worse, outright kill them, at any time. He needs to be stopped Red, don’t you understand that!?”

“I do, really I---”

“I wonder,” Sans glared. “You haven’t exactly been very offering.”

“Because I don’t want anythin’ t’happen t’you!” Red countered.

Sans leaned away, sockets growing wide. “….What?”

“Fuckin' idiot! I have seen monsters from Tha Attic lose their Error Damned minds tryin’ t’adjust and cope with all this. Some of ‘em straight up don’t make it, Sans. And who do ya think has to be there t’either put ‘em down or hold their hand when they decide to go out!? That’s why I keep tellin’ ya t’be careful. I… I don’t want t’have…. don’t make me hold ya hand like that… please….”

Sans could only stare, voice having left him as he started to see the situation from Red's view. ...Gods Above and Below, how could he be so neglectful to his own well-being? Where had such a carefree attitude come from? From Asgore needing him to have a child? Sans knew first hand how quick Asgore’s mind could change. He knew he wasn’t safe at all and after hearing Red describe The Basement, Sans should have become even more weary of the outcome should Asgore catch him in the act. Red knew first hand how hard living in The Basement could be, how could Sans just brush aside his warnings?

Even more so, if Sans lost his life, how much time would pass before anyone continued his mission---how many monsters would be forced to The Basement, or worse, killed?  

Sans looked down, pinpoints shivering in the shame he felt. “I, I’m sorry, Red, I….”

“It’s all right. Yer under a lot of stress and it can mess with yer judgement. Just… promise me ya’ll be more careful, aight?”

Sans nodded with a smile. “I promise, Red. I’ll take my time and be quicker in researching a way to open the door. You know… even if we can’t overthrow Asgore, maybe we can at least use The Basement as a safe haven for those marked for a worse fate. I mean, if your magic doesn’t work up here, ours probably doesn’t work down there, so I doubt Asgore would go searching for anyone in The Basement. I think that will make a good back up plan if re-attuning the talismans doesn’t work. What do you think?”

“Hrm…I guess it would be tha better of two evils. Aight, we’re done talkin’. Hurry up and get outta here.”

“All right. Good night, Red. And thank you.”

Red grumbled, but, for some reason, Sans could imagine a blush on his cheekbones. “Good night, Little Font.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, at this point, I'm having a bit of writer's block. I think in another two chapters, I'll be ready for the first big turn in the story. I just have to figure out what to put in those two chapters. I would love to build up Sans and Red's relationship more, but at the same time, I want to show Asgore's state of mind sort of crumbling a bit more--- but then again, maybe I've shown that enough? Red and Sans have only talked twice, maybe I should focus these next two chapters on them? Maybe do some sort of parallel between Sans' political relationship and his budding relationship. See, I really can't decide. >.<  
> Honestly, it feels like my brain is about to leak out, so I'm just going to let this ideas fester for the rest of the week and try to write a rough base of the chapter either Friday or over the weekend. I just feel like I'm close to burning out (probably because these chapters are twice as along as usual), so I hope to have the next chapter ready in a week. Thank you for your patience! ^_^


	6. Haphe

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Terrible, terrible things.  
>  THIS IS THE SOUL RAPE AND BURNT ALIVE CHAPTER. PLEASE PROCEED WITH CAUTION.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TRIGGER WARNINGS: SOUL RAPE AND BURNT ALIVE. PLEASE PROCEED WITH CAUTION
> 
> ***Sections marked. Be careful.

**TRIGGERS AHEAD: SOUL RAPE and BURNT ALIVE**

 

“My Queen.”

“Hmm.”

“I see you still are not reading the books assigned to you.”

Sans gave a bored look from his seat at the dining room table. “For one, yes, I have glanced over them. However, they contain information I am already familiar with. Secondly, if you must know, I find reading about Souls far more interesting. For example, were you aware of Heartfelt Souls? They are extremely rare. It is essentially when a Monster is born with two Souls stuck together--- each one representing the color of their parents’ Souls. They seem to be able to wield a unique magic that heals and defends at once, but never attacks. Nothing is known beyond that. I also came across Heartbroken Souls, when a Soul is drained of magic by force, but the monster is able to survive with a special kind of Determination. It’s all quite fascinating. You know, if I could repair my father’s lab, perhaps we could study Souls again. I know he was dabbling in Artificial Souls--- I think he called them… Heartease Souls? Because they were going to “ease” our burden of waiting for a human Soul. Oh, but I’m sure you were already aware of---”

**THUD**

Sans froze when Asgore’s giant hands slammed on the table on either side of the book he was reading. He shivered when Asgore leaned down, hovering near his ‘ear’.

“I grow tired of this, My Queen. You know what you must do and---”

“I don’t have to do anything you tell me, Asgore,” Sans growled. “You don’t control me.”

**SMACK**

A sharp pain exploded over Sans’ cheekbone and sent the skeleton spiraling to the floor, book and chair following. With a groan, Sans pulled himself to sit up on his side and glare back at the towering, sneering goat.

“Do you feel like a king slapping me around like that?” the skeleton snarled. “Amazing how you only get violent when no one else is around. Can’t let them see how pathetic you really are, now can we?”

Asgore growled, body shaking in growing rage. “I would not have to resort to such lowly tactics, if you would just do as you are told!”

“You can take your so-called orders and sit on them!” Sans yelled and kicked the fallen chair at Asgore, causing the large monster to stumble away. Sans took the opportunity to scamper to his feet and dash out of the room. Holding up his dress, he scurried thought the halls past confused staff workers. His mind flailed for sanctuary and he could only think of one place.

_‘Asgore doesn’t know I know about that room. I should be safe there until he loses interest.’_

Sans rounded the corner, raced down the long hall and slipped under the secret door, then forced the door closed with a loud slam. He sighed in relief, feeling safe for the moment. “I just need to wait him out here for a bit.”

“Little Font?”

Sans turned to the stone door and saw a familiar shadow. “Oh, Red,” the tiny skeleton smiled as he walked over.

“Ya okay?”

“I’m fine. Asgore is just upset again, so I’m hiding in here until he calms down.”

“Geez.”

“This happens sometimes,” Sans sighed, as he leaned against the stone door. “He becomes angry when I tell him I don’t want to have his child.”

“He wants ya to have his kid!?”

“To “legitimize the rule,” as he puts it,” Sans glared. “I know he only wants to use the child against me.”

“Sans this is… this is really dangerous! Asgore, might… he might---”

”Red, it’s fine,” Sans reassured him. “He doesn’t know I hide here. I just need to---”

_Click click._

Sans froze, sockets going wide. His skull turned to the door, the one that no one knew about, no one but---

“Oh, Gods….”

“Sans?”

“R-Red,” Sans gasped.

“Sans!? Sans, what’s going on!?”

“He… He….”

A long smirk curled across a stony face. “I should have known,” came a deep voice. “Yes, you would let your curiosity get the best of you and let it lead you to this place,” Asgore spoke as he slipped into the room. Before the door closed, the monster tossed out his hand, sending out fireballs, which landed on the torches along the wall and cast a low glow over the room.

Sans pressed against the cold door, bones rattling, sweat pouring. This couldn’t be happening, this couldn’t be happening!!

“SANS!” Red screamed. “Sans, what’s happening!?”

“Oh, you’ve met the little warden, I see,” Asgore spoke as he strolled over and towered over Sans. “Would you like to see him, monster to monster?”

Sans gulped.

“You’ve been trying to open the door I imagine. It’s quite simple, really. I even used the Spectral’s trait of using Incantations for the magic. I thought doing so was only right, since this door was meant to keep them trapped.”

“Ya sick son of a bitch!” Red screamed. “Ya would do some sick shit like that! Listen t’me, don’t ya dare lay a hand on Sans, ya hear me!?”

Asgore smirked as he leaned over Sans to reach the inner circle of the door. “My, you two sound as if you’ve gotten close. How quaint. Well, allowing you two to meet is only fair, don’t you think?”

“Red,” Sans squeaked out. “Red, run! Run!”

“I ain’t leaving ya alone with that fucker!”

Asgore chuckled. _“And round time goes, and round time goes.”_ And Asgore began to spin the circles around, each one twice and clockwise as he spoke.

 _“No handles and no locks. The chain-less gate, the shadowed fate, unknown til seven knocks.”_ And the circles lit up: red, indigo, yellow, orange, arctic blue, purple, green. Asgore knocked seven times, once in each circle, and each circle hummed in return. “Now, here’s a funny tidbit of information,” Asgore grinned. “As this point, our little warden here could open the door for me. The other side should mimic this one now in image and he could slide open the door if he wished--- or, should I say, _if he knew he could open the door at all._ However, since he does not--- _‘But hark, if nothing is revealed, a foe you may now know. If Desperate ills, let time stand still and seven knocks echo.’”_ And Asgore knocked seven times more, once in each circle again. The circles dimmed and spun counter clockwise. The door began to slide open, forcing Sans to turn his back to Asgore and focus on a chasm-deep voice.

_“ ‘But I warn t’ya. The Gate knows truth. Be careful down below’.”_

And Red’s form came into view as the fires shined their light on him.

Sans stared, sockets widening.

Red was enormous.

He stood socket to eye with Asgore, his pinpoints, shaped like ankhs, the most intense shade of red Sans had ever seen.

A beautiful charcoal black coat covered Red’s bones, a bush of snow white fur framing his skull. Little wooden tiles hung off his coat, each one designed with a symbol Sans didn’t recognize.

His talismans?

“Ah, so you know the chant,” Asgore spoke, snarky smile on his face, eyes even lidded with ease.

“I’ve heard ya say it enough, just never bothered t’put two and two together,” Red growled. “Ya piece of shit. Ya make a way to open the door from Tha Basement side just to have a sick little laugh ever time ya open it. But I gotta admit, that last part of ya little poem is pretty interestin’.”

“Ah, you Spectrals love putting little warnings in your Incantations,” Asgore waved off. “I couldn’t help myself.”

“Really now? Or is it because ya know ya magic don’t work down here?” Red smirked. “A little reminder not t’go after anyone, perhaps?”

Asgore’s eyes narrowed and his smirk bent into a deep frown.

“Hit tha nail on tha head, huh?” Red’s fang-filled smirk grew before going straight again. “A’ight, enough jokin’ around. How ‘bout ya just give Sans t’me?”

“Ah, now, I cannot just have My Queen disappear,” Asgore smiled as he grabbed Sans by the wrist. He yanked him off the floor, making the small skeleton cry out. “However, you’re more than welcome to come get him,” Asgore challenged as he took large steps backwards.

Red gulped, fangs quivering.

“Oh, what’s wrong?” Asgore feigned a pout. “I thought you wanted to save him.” He squeezed Sans’ wrist against and the skeleton yelped.

Red growled.

“Red, no!” Sans yelled. “Your magic doesn’t work up here! Just run! Don’t worry about me!”

“Yes, Red, run away,” Asgore teased as he jerked Sans up and down by his arm, the bone threatening to pop out of the socket. The tiny skeleton hissed and winced. “Or, will you face me, like your ancestors before you? However, do keep in mind they failed.”

”Don’t listen to him, Red!” Sans groaned. “I’ll be okay, just--AHHHH!”

_POP!_

Sans piled on the floor, his arm hanging from Asgore’s grip. He curled up in a ball and burst into tears as he held his empty arm socket.

Red couldn’t stand still anymore. He reached across his jacket to one of the talismans and ripped one off . “A Needle of Iron will Pierce!” A barrage of yellow needles flashed into existence around Red. He pointed towards Asgore and the needles shout forward, Red following.

However, seconds after the needles crossed into the room, they began to shatter.

 _‘Shit, no, no,’_ Red cursed as he staggered to a stop and reached for another talisman. “A Ring of Salt will Protect!”

The talisman shattered in his hand.

“No-GAAAH!”

Sans lifted his skull at Red’s scream and again, his sockets went wide at Asgore’s strength.

The goat monster had a single hand wrapped around Red’s vertebrae and lifted the huge skeleton off the floor with no effort expanded.

Red clawed at Asgore’s hand, only to gag when the goat squeezed.

“Asgore, please!” Sans begged. “Let him go!”

***

Asgore glanced down at the sobbing skeleton. “So, you’ve come to value him. How precious. Well then, he will make a perfect example.”

Sans’ sockets snapped wide. “What---”A ring of fire circled under Red’s feet and the meaning of Asgore’s words slammed into Sans head on. **“ASGORE, NO!!”**

With a thunderous roar, a column of fire engulfed Red.

 **“CRIMSON!!!”** Sans bellowed.

But all Sans heard was Red’s long, shattering excruciating scream

The smell of ash and sulfur filled the room as the fire burned away clothes and bone.

Sans could only watch, mouth gaped, sockets wide and streaming tears. He couldn’t move, his body feeling heavy and cold, like a ton of iron sitting at the bottom of the deepest polar sea.

And just as soon as the fire began to blaze, the flames petered out.

All that remained of Red was a burnt, smoking, naked skeleton, ash chipping off and fluttering to the floor.

Sans gagged at the sight, at the smell, tears pouring down his cheekbones like a dam had been released. _‘Oh, Gods, please, no, please….’_ He pulled himself to sit up on his legs as Asgore dropped Sans’ unattached arm to the floor and walked towards the open door. Without a second thought, he threw Red down the stairs and Sans could hear his bones clattering against the stone steps. He broke down again, sobs echoing around the room as Asgore slid the door closed and the circles spun clockwise. He then stepped over to a sobbing Sans and bent over to grab him by the collar, making the tiny skeleton yelp.

“Keep that image in your mind, My Queen,” Asgore hissed. “That is my power,” he yanked Sans to the floor and ripped open the front of his dress, exposing his ribcage.

“AHH! NO--- WHAT ARE YOU---!?”

“QUIET!” Asgore demanded, reaching under Sans’ ribcage and grabbing his thrashing Soul.

“NO! STOP!!”

 **“I SAID QUIET!”** Asgore bellowed, squeezing Sans’ Soul.

The skeleton screamed as his Soul collapsed into itself for long seconds.

“I would not have to do this if you had just listened to me!” Asgore yelled as he drew out his Soul. “If you had been a good boy and just listened, I wouldn’t have to hurt you like this!”

But Sans could see the twisted grin on Asgore’s face. “Do-Don’t---Don’t---!”

“You have no say in the matter,” Asgore muttered as he pressed Sans’ Soul against his bare sternum. Asgore then leaned down, pressing his Soul into Sans, making the skeleton squirm and scream.

“NO! DON’T! GET OFF OF ME!!” Sans demanded, hitting Asgore in the head and face.

Asgore growled as he took hold of Sans’ attached arm and pinned the bones to the floor. His other hand held down his rib cage and he leaned in closer, pressing their Souls into each other.

A stinging wave of fire shot through Sans’ bones, making him shriek. He felt his Soul burning and stretching as Asgore forced his inside. Sans’ Soul was drowning, his bones were shattering and turning into ash under the pressure of Asgore’s Soul eating at his, filing the white Soul past its limits.

 **“GET OUT! GET OUT!! GET OUT!!”** Sans cried.

“Oh, we’re not through yet, dear,” Asgore hissed. “This is your punishment!” He managed to force his Soul in deeper, ripping more screams from Sans. “This is your fault!” Asgore growled. “Red’s death is your fault-- if you had been a good boy, he wouldn’t have had to suffer. Just like your brother--- if you had been a good boy and just stepped forward, he wouldn’t have died. If you had been more responsible, your father wouldn’t have died! You’re a very bad boy, Sans and now you’re paying for it!”

Another push and Sans shrieked again, body and Soul in pure agony. Asgore’s Soul was in the entirety of his, every bit of his essence invaded by hate, rage, force. He gagged, sobbed, screamed and still managed to hear a devastating whisper.

_You deserve this. It’s because of you everyone is gone. It’s all your fault._

Sans broke into a new wave of sobs, the last ounce of his fight ripped away at the other Soul’s accusations. His sobs began to fall quiet as his body went limp and his mind blanked out and all he could feel was the beast moving inside him, above him, against him. He wished he couldn’t feel anything anymore, he wished this would end, he wished he could just die. Maybe Asgore would kill him after this. Yes, that would be just fine, if he just killed him so he wouldn’t have to feel so dirty and filthy, so he wouldn’t have to feel as if his body and Soul weren’t his anymore.

***

Sans only came back to the present when he felt Asgore draw his Soul from his and began to feel the new Soul forming within his darkening one.

He was pregnant, just as Asgore intended.

What Asgore hadn’t intended was Sans’ Soul rising up to meet him. He hadn’t expected the blackening heart shape to look square at him. The goat monster stared, eyes widening at the dripping Soul leering at him. “Wh… what in all of the Underground is this….?”

“He…He… low…,” the Soul’s voice was broken and raspy.

Asgore leaned in closer. “Are… are you trying to speak to me?”

“Ye…yes… Fa…Fa… errr. I… I… know….”

A shiver raced down Asgore’s spine. “You… you know? You know what?”

“I… know… wh-at… yuuu… did… t… to… Mo…ther….”

Asgore stumbled backwards on his hands as the Soul edged closer.

“I know… **EVE.RY.THING,”** the Soul hissed.

“SANS!” Asgore cried. “SANS! What is the meaning of this!” He looked over at the skeleton, still lying on the floor, skull turned away from him. “SANS!” Asgore demanded. “ANSWER ME!”

He wasn’t expecting Sans to laugh.

A small chuckle at first… louder into a sort of chortle, louder still, into a full blown cackle.

Asgore continued to stare as all sense of comprehension seemed to leave the room. “Sa-SANS! STOP LAUGHING! ANSWER ME!”

Sans sat up on his left side and peered back at Asgore, sockets lidded and carrying heavy bags, teeth now a sharpened smile. “As he said, Asgore, our dear son knows what you did to me. And he knows why you did it. He knows you won’t kill him, either. You need him to legitimize your sham of a rule, to control me because you would hate if anyone found out how our little voidspawn came to be. You need him to give hope to the people because hope for them means more power for you. But it would appear that you have backed yourself into a corner. Maybe you should have been a “good boy” and read those books you forced on me yourself.”

Asgore growled, chest rising as he got to his feet and stomped over to Sans. “Disgusting, little…” He leaned down to grab Sans’ still disconnected arm and swung the bones to catch Sans in the face. Sans collapsed to the floor and curled up as Asgore reared back and landed a series of sharp blows on Sans’ face and ribs. 

”Leave… Mother… Alone!” the dark Soul demanded as the heart shape rammed into Asgore’s Soul which was still floating near the king’s shoulder.

Asgore bellowed as ice cold ripped a path down his spine. He dropped Sans’ arm and whipped around to face the glaring Soul.

The Soul flashed a menacing shade of red.

Asgore stammered backward before he spun around and stormed out of the room, the door slamming shut behind him.

Sans’ Soul then floated closer to the beaten skeleton. “Mother…? Mother… hurt….”

Sans sat up. “I’m all right, little one,” the skeleton reassured him as he took up his arm and he forced the bone back into the socket with a low growl and hiss. After catching his breath, Sans spoke, voice subdued. “My little voidspawn… there’s something I need you to do for me.”

The Soul ‘nodded.’

“That hate that you feel for Asgore… let it **burn,** my little voidspawn, let it burn like a forest fire; let it grow, like weeds overtaking a garden. **Let it make you stronger.”**

The Soul stared at Sans for a moment before darkening to an inky black ringed with a threatening red.

Sans smirked. “Good boy.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> After trying to figure out where to go, I decided to just go full speed ahead and save the slow burn for much later. Nonetheless, this was still tough to write. I did away with Sans' thoughts and extra details because I wanted this one to hit quick and hard. There was no time for Sans to think or notice anything extraneous because, holy shit, Red is probably dead, Sans' Soul was violated and the result is already talking to him. So, at the end, he's just like, fuck it, let's go all end, let's make Asgore miserable. 
> 
> A bit of trivia: Originally, little Voidspawn was going to have a creepy staring red eye, but I realized that was me trying to be edgy and cool. Heartsick Souls aren't recorded as having any sort of eyes on them. (But how edgy and cool would that be?)


	7. Myso

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Let's introduce them.  
> Let's not give up now.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter was sort of fun to write. Sans gets even more snarky and Voidspawn (also known as Little Curse) gets in on the snark. Snarky and Little Snarky.
> 
> And yes, there are mentions of the previous soul rape, but nothing too intense.

“Everyone, I have great news! The king and I are expecting a child!”

Wide-eyed faces broke into cheers.

Sans smirked. “Yes, this is a glorious day for the kingdom. This child shall be the embodiment of hope our kingdom needs. With his birth, surely an escape from our prison will be brought into the light! Yes…,” Sans directed his smirk at a bewildered Asgore. “So much could be brought into light….”

Asgore gave a shaky glance at Sans before turning away to walk off the stage, back behind the curtain.

Sans bowed and followed the flustered king. “Why, whatever is the matter, My King? You left without saying anything to our people.”

‘Yes, father, what is wrong?’

Asgore stopped short before glaring back at Sans, at the little glow under Sans’ layers of black dress. “Why does it speak?”

 _“He_ is aware,” Sans answered. “You should know that, My King.”

‘Yes, father. We did only speak yesterday after all,’

Asgore whipped around. “Do not bring up that forsaken day! Yesterday was a mistake!”

“Oh my, do you really think so?” Sans replied, hands coming to his hip bones. “I mean, it was just a little SOUL RAPE!”

“Keep your voice down!” Asgore hushed, hands reaching for Sans’ teeth.

Sans chuckled. “Oh, I forget that was our dirty little secret.”

Asgore glared, eye twitching. “ Where do you get the gall to be so unruly!”

Sans returned the glare, tiny fangs bared. “You **Soul raped** me. Fuck you, fuck your little rules, fuck your feelings, fuck your plans. All bets are off, Asgore. But don’t worry,” Sans grinned. “ I won’t tell anyone what happened, even though I know you are not going to do anything either because you need us to appear as a true king. A true king has a loving queen and child, does he not? If anything, you should be thanking me for making the announcement!” The skeleton presented the stage behind the curtain with a hand, large grin on his face. “Listen to their cheers, Asgore! They are by your side now more than ever! You are practically _obligated_ to go to them and say something, something like….” Sans rolled his hand. “I don’t know, just something to make them cheer more. Bright future, blessings from the Gods Above, love, happiness, they’ll eat up whatever you tell them.”

Asgore growled, but began for the stage, nonetheless.

“Or….”

The giant goat stopped short again.

“You could tell them the truth.”

Asgore felt a chill thunder down his spine, eyes going wide at Sans’ low voice and curt words.

“Tell them you soul raped me, bound my powers.”

“Quiet.”

“Tell them about what really happened to Toriel. Tell them about the records in that room.”

“I said quiet.”

“Tell them about The Basement.”

“I said quiet!”

“Tell them how you killed Red.”

“I SAID QUIET!”

Lidded sockets glanced back at burning eyes. Asgore’s heavy breaths filled the dark backstage, though the deep breathing was no true match for the cheers still ringing just beyond the curtain.

“I will only be quiet when the option suits me,” Sans warned. “On that note, I cannot control when the little one speaks.”

Sans womb glowed again. ‘There would really be no need anyway. Only you and Father can hear me speak--- and I look froward to speaking to Father very much.”

Asgore shivered before turning away and heading towards the stage. A new roar of cheers rung up and Sans sighed at Asgore’s familiar “king cadence.”

“Of course he wouldn’t tell them the truth,” the skeleton spoke as he turned around for the door that would lead him to the main hallway. “Well, it is to be expected.”

‘...Mother, how are you feeling?’

“ I am fine, my little voidspawn,” Sans replied. “I am aware that I was a bit… unhinged for some time.”

‘You have been through a traumatic experience, Mother. Being unhinged is perfectly understandable and even expected.’

“I know, I know,” Sans spoke as he made his way to Asgore’s room. “Hm… should we wait for Asgore here or should we go to my room?”

‘I would like to wait here for him. I wish to discuss something. There is also something I wish to ask of you, Mother.’

“Oh?” Sans questioned as he strolled into Asgore’s room. _He always has the fire burning. I wonder why that is…_

‘Mother, is there is a draft in the room?’

“Not that I’m aware of,” Sans answered as he padded his way over to Asgore’s looming midnight black chair. He plopped down and snuggled into the cushion. “What did you want to discuss with me, my little curse?”

‘Once I am born, what is our plan?’

Sans looked down at his stomach, a brow bone cocked. “Plan? Well… I intend to raise you as best I can. According to the books I have read, you are predisposed to certain mental conditions. I should probably begin reading up on these conditions before you’re born.”

‘Oh, I know you will take good care of me. I meant about our plan concerning Father.’

Sans blinked. ‘Concerning Asgore?’

“You have… inklings of overthrowing him.’

Sans sighed. “I did, but… I am afraid all of the fight has left me.”

‘...Because of what happened to the one called Red?’

Sans looked to his lap, folding his hands atop each other. He gulped down the growing lump in his non-existent throat “…He died because of me. He died because I did not take his warnings to heart. He died because I was so sure Asgore would never find me in that room….”

‘But Mother, we do not know he is dead.’

“He was burnt alive, Little Curse,” Sans replied, voice low, gaze distant settling on the fire. “Nothing was left but charred bone… the smell of sulfur….”  

‘But not Dust.’

Sans blinked.

Little Curse was right--- Sans hadn’t seen Red Dust, so maybe….

“He did say Toriel’s house was nearby,” Sans started, hand coming to his chin. “If he talks to her on the way to and back from the stairs, maybe she would notice him missing and go searching for him.” Sans frowned. “But the chance is such a long shot.”

‘The chance may be small, but that does not mean the situation will end on a negative note.”

“I don’t know, Little Curse,” Sans admitted with a small breath. “Do monsters born in The Basement even turn to Dust when they die? What if… Gods, what if Red is just a skeleton of charred bones at the bottom of the stairs? He could still be there and no one knows he’s there. Gods, his brother! His poor brother! What if he doesn’t know where Red is? What if he’s just pacing around waiting for him to come back? Oh Gods, oh Gods…,” Tears began to bubble in Sans’ sockets.

‘Mother, you must not think such awful things. When you are ready to return to that room, we can go and see for ourselves. We know how to open the door now.’

Sans dried his sockets with the heel of his bony palms.”You are right. Maybe someone did find him…maybe---”

The door to the bedroom opened.

‘Ah, Father is here.’

Sans turned around in the chair just in time to see Asgore freeze mid-step, eyes wide, pupils shaking, a deep frown carved into his face.

Sans smiled at the abhorrent look. “Hello, My King. Our son desires to talk with you.”

Asgore’s look of terror morphed into one of rage. “How dare you bring that thing into my room!?”

‘Come now, Father,’ Little Curse spoke. ‘I only wish to have a friendly conversation with you.’

Asgore stomped over to the chair, body heaving in fury. “I refuse to engage in conversation with a---with a---”

‘A mistake? Mother calls me a little curse and a voidspawn. I do hope you can be more creative than “mistake”. How about… tragedy? Or perhaps you see me more as a travesty---a mockery to your hopeful kingdom?’

Asgore’s hands balled into shaking fists, his fangs grinding against each other as he growled. “I will not give you the satisfaction of earning any sort of name from me. You are nothing more than an abomination and you have obviously twisted the skeleton’s mind as no mother of sane thought would treat you as a child as he does.”

Sans was standing in the seat before Asgore saw his hand reel back and felt the hard bones slap him across his muzzle. “If someone has twisted my mind, that someone is you!!” Sans exploded, fangs bared. “I have had to come to terms with the fact that, for years, I have done nothing but serve a deceiver, a false saviour, a scared paranoid old beast who would rather kill and punish then admit just how terrified and distrustful he is!!”

“Do not speak as if you know anything about my mind!” Asgore shouted.

‘I do.’

Both monsters blinked before gazing down at Sans’ womb.

‘Well, of course I do,’ Little Curse seemed to chuckle. ‘After all, _so much of your Soul went into creating me, Father.’_

And Little Curse revealed himself, a dripping mass of inky black gunk with only a vague hint of being shaped like a heart.

Asgore stumbled backward, mouth agape as the Soul floated closer to him.

‘Though, I hesitate to use the world “create”. “Create” as such positive connotations and I am afraid what you did was far from positive,” the black Soul hissed, the ring of red flashing with his disgust. ‘Perhaps there is no word to describe the pain of being forced to exist,’ he sneered as he continued after a retreating Asgore. ‘I can, however, try my best to describe the sensation for you. Being forced into existence is much like drowning--- whatever I breathed while floating around in the aether was ripped from me as I came to form and for quite some time, I could not breath at all, only gasp and gasp. I was also being crushed as your Soul forced its way into Mother’s. The crushing generated quite the intense heat, so not only could I not breathe, not only was I being crushed, I was also ablaze, gasping down smoke and flame as there was no air. Oh and how could I forgot the high pitched screeching of one Soul trying to reject the other? Like glass breaking, like claw tips scratching across steel. And speaking of screeching….’ Little Curse floated closer to Asgore’s sweat-drenched face. **‘I heard Mother.’**

Sans froze, hands coming to his mouth. Little Curse had… heard him being Soul raped? Gods Above and Below, no wonder Heartsick Souls were unsound in mind. Sans had always thought they were just aware of how they had come into existence, he had no idea they heard their mothers being violated. The thought made Sans want to vomit and he covered his mouth and looked away for a moment, trying to fight back tears. He took a deep breath, gulped and looked back over to the two. Little Curse’s presence and approach had forced Asgore across the room until he slammed against the opposite wall. His eyes grew larger still as his chest heaved, his lungs struggling for air. He pressed harder into the wall as Little Curse edged closer to his face, dripping onto his father’s cloak.

‘Oh, but how silly of me,’ Little Curse continued. ‘I already told you that I knew of what you had done to Mother, so of course that would mean I heard him pleading for you to stop. And, perhaps if you had stopped, _I wouldn’t be here,’_ Little Curse whispered, voice subdued and scratchy. Sans could even imagine his little voidspawn with a twisted grin on his face as he kept speaking. 'In the end, you really only have yourself to blame.' And the inky black Soul began to laugh, a sort of light, twinkling sound that reminded Sans of wind chimes.

Asgore, however, growled again and swatted the voidspawn away. The little Soul floated back over to Sans, who cupped the heart shape in his hands.

Quivering against the wall, Asgore pointed to the door, baring his fangs as he snarled, trying to hold back his rage. **“Take that abomination and get out!”**

Sans hurried out of the room, coaxing Little Curse back into his rib cage. “Little one, you mustn’t push Asgore so,” Sans berated as he raced upstairs. “He may decide that we are not worth keeping around anymore. We cannot depend on The Basement for support since Red…” Sans winced. “Since Red is gone…. As I am to blame for his death, his brother would sooner have me Dust than aid me.”

‘How would you know that, Mother?’

“Because it is what I would do,” Sans admitted, voice low. “If my brother lost his life to a monster he warned to be more careful, to a monster he had only conversed with twice, I would want some retribution. I would feel as if his death was a waste.”

_His death was a waste, both of their deaths were a waste, everyone’s death has been a waste and it’s my fault!_

‘Mother!’ Little Curse snapped. ‘Stop. Stop blaming yourself for everyone’s ends. Your brother didn’t have to confront that human, your father could have waited on you to arrive before conducting that experiment, and Red could have ran away. They had a hand in their fates. You **didn’t** stab Papyrus, you **didn’t** cause the explosion in your father’s lab, you **didn’t** set Red on fire. You are not responsible for any of that. Please stop blaming yourself.’

Sans sniffed, leaned against the wall and brushed away his tears. A part of him knew as much, but accepting the fact, accepting that they were all gone, was so difficult. He just couldn’t…. “I’m sorry,” he sobbed. “I wish… I wish I could be stronger for you.”

‘You are strong, Mother. Despite everything, you’ve chosen to stay alive.’

Sans continued to weep in quiet sobs for a few moments more. Gods Above and Below, he thought he had done enough of this last night; he thought all he had left was strength after crying and screaming for hours on end. But here he was still crying, Gods, when would he stop crying?

He took a deep breath, forcing the sobs to die down. He told himself that he had to stay focused, that now was not the time to mourn. There was too much at stake, too much to still try to understand, too much to be done, he imagined, once he decided on the best course of action. “All right,” he said more to himself than Little Curse. “We have to be more careful. We have no one to run to now. With that being the case, we will have to figure out how to handle Asgore on our own.”

‘...Very well, Mother,’ Little Curse replied. ‘I will admit, however, I do enjoy the idea of making him suffer for his actions. I **scare** him and who knows the last time he was truly frightened? There is much power in making another afraid. Granted, I’m sure his fear will fade in time. Despite my appearance, he will become accustomed to my presence. I wonder what I shall do then? Well, until that time, I will enjoy making him suffer when and where I can.” Little Curse giggled, a rare moment where he sounded more like a child and less like a borderline murderous demon of the void.

However….

Sans shuffled his teeth as he leaned against the wall. “Oh my… if I’m being honest…admittedly… I feel the same. I suppose that is part of the reason I snap at him as I do, other than trying to put up some sort of resistance,” he spoke with a sigh. “And we might be able to use the opportunity to exact a little karma. However, we mustn’t overdo so. If we do this in the correct manner, perhaps we can get him to unravel himself…” Sans trailed in thought, fingers to his chin again. “Yes….That may be the only option we have now. Still, we must be careful,” Sans repeated, determined not to lose anyone else again---including himself.

‘Understood, Mother. I will stay silent more often.’

“Very good,” Sans nodded as he padded his way to his room. “After all, you and I are sharing a Soul. One wrong move from your smart mouth and we will both end up Dust.”

‘Hmmm… I do wonder who I got the smart mouth from…’

Sans rolled his pinpoints. “ _Anyway_ … if you and I are Dust, who knows how long before someone notices Asgore’s behavior and will try to stop him? I am the last line of defense.”

‘We are the last line of defense.’

Sans paused in opening his door, coaxing Little Curse to continue.

‘I will be able to fight in time, Mother. I simply need you to be my anchor as I grow.’

Sans gave a glaring frown as he opened the door and entered his room. He slammed the door and sighed, crossing his arms. “Little one, you really are unsound in your mind if you think I will let you fight Asgore.”

‘But you must know of the unique magic my kind has! I will be able to do things Asgore would never dream of-- and thus, will not have a way to defend against.’

“Little one, even if I agreed to let you fight---which I do **not** \--- we do not have time,” Sans countered. “Monsters need months to even learn the most basics of magic, let alone fight. Secondly, we have no idea what your magic will be or even do. We have no idea what using it will do to you. For all we know, _your magic may hurt you more than Asgore.”_

‘Well, that is just preposterous and as far as time being an issue, I can assure you that, once I am born, my body will become equal to my mind in due time. I simply require you to keep me… sane.”

Sans sighed again. “Little one, I can assure you, you will not go insane. You are more susceptible to mental illness, yes, but that is no guarantee that you will lose your---”

‘Mother. Please.’

Sans looked to his womb, the dim glow of their shared Souls just visible under the layers of his clothing.

‘I… I understand that you are trying to be more positive in regards to my situation, but there is no reason to sugarcoat anything. I know what could happen to me. That is why I am asking you to keep me from complete mental ruin.’

Sans rested a hand on his stomach, right over the glowing light. “Of course, little one,” he whispered. “I promise to do my best to take care of you. I only ask that you do not push yourself. I have never dealt with a Soul such as yours. I do not know how much you can take or how much you can expend. I won’t know your stats until you are born, so I really have no idea what we will be working with. I’m not even sure you will be able to use the FIGHT system, though I don’t think you necessarily need to be able to. There’s so much about your Soul I don’t know…. So, all I can ask you to do is be careful. No matter how much you desire to break Asgore, please be careful,” Sans finished in a light whisper.

‘I… cannot make any promises,’ Little Curse admitted. ‘If he attempts to hurt you, I cannot say I will be in control.’

“I understand.”

‘For now, I will keep my thoughts to myself, to lessen his anger towards us. I can at least promise to do that much.’  

Sans smiled, “Thank you, little one,” he replied, keeping his hand over the glowing Soul. After a few moments of silence, Sans turned around to lock the door. Once the locks were secure, Sans padded over to his bed and plopped down right on top of the sheets. Sleep found him moments later, having eluded him the night before. Not only had he spent the night lamenting his and his child’s Soul as well as his child’s well-being and future, he also mourned Red’s apparent death.

At some point in those long gone hours, he had decided to just give up: Give up on fighting Asgore, on reaching The Basement and forming a new friendship, of freeing his people from this nightmare and shame of a rule. He had believed things would be much easier for him if he just went along with Asgore and whatever he wanted.

But, then, he remembered how Asgore reacted to Little Curse, how Little Curse was brave enough (or perhaps foolish enough) to stand up to Asgore without a second thought….

Watching his son stand up to that tyrant…stand up for Sans, fight for him, however brief, made Sans realize that he couldn’t wash his hands of these events. He couldn’t give up, not yet. He had to keep fighting.

Most of all, his child, this Soul that had been forced to exist, needed him. Sans knew that the role as Little Curse’s mother would be difficult, but he couldn’t just neglect him--- not when Sans needed Little Curse as well.

Sans’ father, his brother, his best friend and his ally, they were all gone. Without Little Curse, Sans would have been alone. He had come not only to value Little Curse’s strength, but also his company.

As an anchor, Sans hoped he could keep his Little Curse afloat.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I do like the idea that Sans recognizes that he and Little Curse need to pull back on irritating Asgore. As fun as it is, they really are on a thin rope. It's noble that they want to stay to help The Attic, but also amazingly foolish. Get out of there, you precious babies!!! >.<


	8. Onomato

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Welcome, little one.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh, looks like someone wants to say hello. =D This chapter I think is my favorite so far. I think the last line just sort of nails it.

Over the next several weeks, Little Curse kept to himself, only talking to Sans when prompted or when he noticed his mother was depressed.

Little Curse knew Sans still worried about Red.

In fact, Little Curse knew quite a bit about his mother --- all of Sans’ memories lay in his Soul, after all.

When Sans was busy attending to his matriarch duties (which, with a baby on the way, meant decorating a nursery, gathering supplies and having clothes made), Little Curse flied through his mother’s memories. He always made sure to stay on the “surface level,” not wanting to intrude anymore than he already was.

He learned about his late uncle and grandfather, how his mother blamed himself for both of their deaths--- his mother hadn’t stopped Papyrus from approaching that human and he had overslept, failing to meet his father in the lab for some energy experiment that had required two people and if Sans had only been there two minutes earlier---

Little Curse found that his mother held much blame for almost all the major losses in his life, and Little Curse could feel that blame in his mother’s Soul, cold and heavy, like a cloth bag trying to carry melting ice.

Mother’s focus of blame now was on Red and Little Curse could hear his defeating circles of thought: _If I had only stayed away, if I only gone outside, if I had only listened to all the warnings he gave him, if I had only---if I had only--- if I had only--- if_ _I had only,_ over and over and over again.

Little Curse noticed that this blame felt different however--- this blame… burned. Little Curse knew that this was his mother’s way of punishing himself after watching Red burn alive--- forcing that part of his Soul that was all his own to burn at the very thought of Red, from the inside out. Little Curse did what he could to calm the burning, but there was only so much his words and little Soul could do before Sans just stopped listening and Little Curse had to move onto other memories and thoughts.

In time, this type of exploring led Little Curse to a new discovery: He found his mother’s rage towards Asgore was a different sort of burning,--- quick, scorching, flaring up and dying down in a matter of seconds.

At first, Little Curse was not sure why Mother put up with Asgore at all. Why not just escape to The Basement?

He would later find that his mother worried about the other monsters of The Attic. Little Curse scoffed at the thought. Why worry about such idiots too foolish and passive to question anything around them, too foolish to investigate, to ponder? Let them have Asgore as their king--- a herd of sheep meant for slaughter by a wolf in shepherd’s clothing.

Meanwhile, his mother could be living in relative peace far away from constant stress and the on-going looming possibility of death. He could even be with Red right now, but he could see in his mother’s doubt about Red’s survival.

Sans still believed Red to be deceased.

And… if Little Curse was being honesty and objective…. With a sigh, he could see Red as a pile of ash at the bottom of the stairs, or, even more horrifying, a charred skeleton, blacken and smelling of sulfur.

And, with Red’s brother being the Prince…. Little Curse wondered if a war could start between the two groups (“The Two Floors of The House” as Little Curse liked to call them). If Canary was a Prince, that meant Red was a Prince himself, after all, so, if he were dead, Asgore would be charged with assassination of royalty of another kingdom. That would be a definite cause of war.

However, Little Curse could already see a war between the Two Floors not working, since their magics only worked on one Floor and not the other. A war could be declared, but the result would be a cold one. The Basement could stop taking in prisoners from The Attic and let them fend for themselves, but with how Red had described The Basement, most of the kingdom didn’t seem too beholden to the Prince anyway, so, maybe in the end, nothing would really change.

Unless, of course, The Basement retuned their talismans to work in The Attic. Then, in theory, a war could start.…

…And Mother would be quite defenseless because he was still walking around with his magic bound, something that had gotten Little Curse rather upset. For one, why in all of the Underground would he go against Asgore with no way of defending himself!? Sans’ whole act of rebellion relied on Asgore deciding he was worth the effort--- and Sans had the gall to suggest the two stop poking the bear all the time for the same reason Sans had the courage to rebel in the first place: Asgore’s amount of effort towards them either holding or running out. Mother was a hypocrite, through and through. Not only that, he was just as foolish as these sheep because the entire time he had spent poking the bear, he could have been looking for some way to remove his bounds! And no, Asgore saying there wasn’t a way to remove them wasn’t an excuse because Mother knew first hand Asgore was a liar. His first course of action should have been researching the bounds and finding a way to remove them.

With another huff, Little Curse came to terms with the fact his mother’s priorities were a mess and he felt he would have to convince his mother to rearrange them.

First, they needed to get these Error damned bracelets off. After that…. For a moment, Little Curse entertained the idea of going to The Basement until his birth as the next step. With his Soul being Heartsick, he suspected his magic frequency would be fluctuating quite a bit and perhaps, in theory, Little Curse could use his magic in both The Attic and The Basement. He would have to test that somehow, which led him to decided that staying in The Attic would be a safer bet for now---his Soul was already becoming accustomed to the frequency of The Attic, which would make magic easier to use in the long run.

So many unknowns--- his magic, his Soul’s frequency, the ultimate well-being of his mother….

When Little Curse became distracted by unknowns to the point where he was running mental circles like his mother, he fell back on what he did know.

The one thing Little Curse knew without doubt was that he desired to rip Asgore to pieces. His hatred for the goat grew as the days passed, as the impostor king threw whispered insults at his mothers, walked all over his words, ignored his son’s very existence.

Knowing that Asgore pretended Little Curse was nothing but a figment of his imagination, some alternate personality of a boarder-line insane mother, solidified Little Curse’s resolve to stay in The Attic until birth. He wanted to see the look on Asgore’s face when he emerged from the womb, when his mother held him in his arms,when he was no longer a mere Soul, an intangible thing, but a solid object of malice and hatred.

He wanted Asgore to see him, to see he existed in this world.

 _I exist,_ Little Cursed thought to himself.  _I exist in this world. He will see that. He will acknowledge that. That will be the last thought he has before he becomes Dust--- ‘He exits! He is right here in front of me! How foolish of me not to see! He exists!’ I… I exist. Yes, those will be my first words… and his last thought. I exist. I am here. And I will never let him forget such a fact for even a moment. I exist!_

‘Mother, Mother, Mother!’

Sans stopped rocking in his chair and looked past his book to his glowing womb. “Little Curse, what has you so excited?”

‘Mother, I exist. Even now, as just a Soul, I exist. But… I realize now… I want more than that. I want more than to exist. I want to live…. Yes, that is what I really need to do, is it not? Live.”

Sans smiled and rubbed his stomach through his dress. “Yes, little one. Live. For as long as you can. Live long enough to end this nightmare while becoming one for Asgore.”

‘Yes,’ Little Curse began to glow even brighter, surprising Sans. His sockets went wide before squinting at the arctic blue light. ‘I understand. From the moment I came into being, I existed. Now, it is time for me to live.’

Sans doubled over as pain assaulted his pelvis and lower spine. “Wh-what?” He winced. “Al… already?” he hissed, holding his stomach.

Little Curse chuckled. ‘I am quite sorry for the surprise.’

Sans growled, glared down at his glowing womb before struggling to stand up and staggering to his bed. “You are so lucky I love you or I would spank you the moment you were born!”

Little Curse giggled, thought he sounded farther away.

Sans crawled into bed and reached for the “baby bell” hanging over the headboard, installed and rung for just such an occasion.

Moments later, Sans’ room swarmed with rushing maids carrying towels and removing Sans’ dress and undergarments, talkative nurses setting up all manner of equipment, such as monitors and IV bags, and order-giving doctors, telling everyone where to put everything, then checking Sans up and down, taking extra care of examining the inky black magic sac that protruded from under his rib cage. Somewhere in that abyss, Little Curse’s body had been developing and was now on the verge of being born.

Monitors were connected to Sans and Little Curse’s shared Soul and Sans teared up at the sound and sight of the tiny pulse of Little Curse’s Soul under the stronger pulse of his own. Another monitor was connected to Sans’ sac and he could here the swish of the magic liquid as Little Curse’s body moved around.

The tiny skeleton stared at his womb, could only hear the Soul pulse of his child, the swishing of his body moving through life-giving magic.

This was… really happening.

His child was about to be born.

For a few moments, Sans forgot how his child had come to be, the pain his Soul and body had gone through to hold onto him, how shattered his mind had been that following night at all the loss he had suffered. He forgot the horrible circumstances and let the current moment just sink in.

His child was on the verge of being born, of existing, of living. His Soul was already pulsing on its own, his body was moving by his own desire, wanting to come into being.

Sans was terrified and excited all at once, but those feelings were overshadowed by the pain that began to bombard his pelvis again. His pelvis was beginning to widen to allow the sac, now more solid than ethereal, to pass through far enough between the bone in order to burst and release Little Curse into the world. As his bones stretched, as the sac lowered and began to squeeze back against his pelvis, Sans broke into a heavy sweat and was prompted to breath more so to focus on anything else than the pain splitting his bones apart than to aid him in giving birth. A cool towel rested on his forehead, a nurse was kind enough to sacrifice her hand to Sans as he squeezed at each contraction and push. Doctors kept close tabs on his dilation and the size of the sac to ensure an emergency birthing wasn’t needed. In rare instances, the sac would pass through without bursting and the sudden motion would caused the child to breathe in liquid instead of air. After a certain point, if so much of the sac had passed through without showing signs of bursting, the doctors would have to pop the sac themselves, a dangerous procedure that could have similar effects to a undisturbed sac not bursting from being pushed against hard bone..

However, Sans had faith in Little Curse.

He would be born just fine, just two hours later after Sans gave one last push.

The sac slid a bit farther into Sans’ pelvis and with a sharp, quick pop, magic gushed forth, then dissipated. Exhausted, Sans gasped and fell back onto the bed just as a piercing cry shook the air. Sans felt Little Curse’s Soul Splinter away from his and moments later, the cry grew even louder.

A wave of relief washed over Sans. Little Curse had been born and connected with his Soul without problem. The little skeleton took this as a good omen.

Moments later, Sans’ little bundle of hell was wrapped in a white and blue blanket and given to him to hold and eventual coo over.

Little Curse was a cutie, though Sans, tears bubbling in his sockets, would never tell him as much because Sans had a feeling his little bundle would find such a compliment demeaning, but Gods Above and Below, this little one was a cutie.

Sans hadn’t expected him to look like a skeleton, though…. Well, his nose bone was a little more elongated than average and Sans could tell even while his sockets were closed that they were more circular than oval. He had a rather cute pair of curly horns, but seemed to have no other trace of Asgore--- no fur, no long goat ears. And, even if he had, Sans knew he would have still loved him. There was a connection between these two, more than their mutual hatred from the king. No, the two of them cared for each other and their well-beings. One could even say they loved each other.

Sans smiled at himself. He loved this little disaster of a child. His little curse, his little voidspawn.

Well, Sans knew he couldn’t call him such names anymore. His son deserved a true name now.

After the doctors performed final checks on both the sleepy babe and Sans, the room emptied, leaving Sans alone with his child in blissful silence. Time held no meaning as Sans just smiled down at his little skeleton child, his rib cage rising up and down as he slept on. He wondered if he should CHECK his stats or wait some time to see if his magic changed in any significant way. He decided to do a CHECK later and just enjoy the calm with his child, as well as think of an appropriate name for him.

Sans found himself drawn to those tiny, curly horns. After a few minutes of tip-of-his-tongue grasping, he remembered the rather regal font they reminded him of.

“Cancelleresca…,” Sans smiled, phalanges tracing over the little horns, making the tiny skeleton shiver and bury himself deeper into the blanket. Sans held his child closer. “Cancell, can you hear me?”

Tiny sockets opened and Sans blinked before staring back.

Cancell’s pinpoints were a stunning shade of red.

Sans had expected blue--- either arctic like his S’s or navy like Asgore’s eyes. Then again, Cancell had a Heartsick Soul, and a result of that may be that the color of his pinpoints would be “wrong.”

‘Mother…’ Cancell’s Soul called to Sans’. ‘I’m sleepy.’

Sans chuckled. “Well, you had an exciting but tiring trip getting here. You just rest, all right? I imagine Asgore will take his time getting here, so I don’t think you will miss him.”   

Sans remembered watching maids going in and out of the room during his entire labor, each one coming back with a sad nod to the other maids. He knew they were failing at convincing Asgore to come witness the birth of his child. Asgore already had a fear of Cancell’s Soul; he would have had a Soul attack at the sight of a tiny skeleton child with horns. All Cancell needed was a pitchfork and pointed tail and the look of a devil would be complete.

The idea made Sans chuckle to himself as Cancell yawned, showing tiny fangs. He couldn’t help but smile again.“Get some rest, little one.”

‘Okay, Mother,’ Cancell yawned once more and his sockets closed, the brilliant shade of red disappearing.

Sans found himself staring at Cancell’s little skull again, curious. He couldn’t remember having read anything about eye---or, in his case, pinpoint--- color when he had read about Heartsick Souls. Did red mean something was wrong? Red was such a rare color among monsters.

But Cancell wasn’t a normal monster. He was the product of hate and force, or rage and surrendering.

Red was the perfect color to encapsulate what Cancell represented: something that should have been stopped.

But, nothing had stopped him. In fact, one could say that he was here to stop, halt, end so many things.

Like this nightmare.

So, why not embrace the color red and everything the raw hue represented?

Sans smiled. “Cancelleresca Crimson Skeleton. Perfect.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm gonna draw this purest hell baby soon. He is too purely hellish not be drawn and praised. I love him so much. =)
> 
> On the topic of names, Cancell's nickname is also perfect because it sounds like "cancel" as in, "stop". I wanted to make note of it in the story, but it sounded too on the nose, I guess? So I just went as far as giving him Crimson's name as his middle name.
> 
> Originally, Cancell was going to look like a skeletal goat, but I think it hits Asgore harder if he looks as much like Sans as possible. Though, a skeletal goat would also hit hard because the first thing Asgore is gonna think is "death" after seeing a skeletal goat. It's perfect both ways, really, so it was a hard decision to make.


	9. Ophthalmo

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I'll be here. Every. Single. Day.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another fun chapter. Some good character building for Cancell, I feel. Sans still calls him names like "curse" but it's more out of affection at this point. Cancell is a mess on both a Soul and mental level that can't really be fixed, so might as well just embrace it.

“What do you mean you don’t want to hold him?”

“I told you, I want nothing to do with… _that,”_ Asgore hissed, flicking a hand at the bundle in Sans’ hands.

Sans glared and his arms tighten around Cancell. “Don’t refer to him as a ‘that’. His name is Cancelleresca. Cancelleresca Crimson Skeleton.”

Asgore glowered, lip twitching as he growled. “Why in all of the Underground did you name---!?”

“Cancelleresca is a lovely, royal font,” Sans interrupted, nose bone up.

“You named it after that Spectral, didn’t you?” Asgore demanded. “I know his Soul was red, so his real name was a shade of red, was it not? Where do you get the gall!?”

Sans glared at Asgore, tiny fangs shifting. Sure, he had been thinking of Red when he came up with Cancell’s middle name, but there was more to the name than just remembering Red.

“Crimson is because of his pinpoints,” Sans answered, voice flat. “He just happens to have the same color pinpoints as… well, Crimson’s. And just to wrap this all up: as for the last name of ‘Skeleton’, you and I never officially married--- no, I don’t count you just announcing me as Queen, we Skeletons like ceremony and corresponding paperwork, so, no, we aren’t officially married, so no, he doesn’t have your last name, he has mine. Now that his name has been explained, will you hold him?”

“I refuse to hold that---”

“Stop being a baby! At least look at your---”

“Don’t you dare finish that sentence!” Asgore snapped. “That thing is some sort of demon, a curse, a creature spawned from the Void itself! I want nothing to do with it!”

Sans bared his fangs. “You listen to me this instance! You helped me make this precious curse. You are going to take responsibility for him! **Hold. Your. Child!”**

And Sans shoved a dozing Cancell into Asgore’s crossed arms.

The goat stumbled away just as a knock sounded at the door. A bunny monster nurse peeked into Sans’ room and looked between the glaring queen and wide eyed king. After a moment, he gave a nervous smile and held up a warm bottle of milk. “I, um, brought milk for the Prince.”

“Perfect timing!” Sans smiled. “Asgore can feed him.”

The king’s head whipped towards Sans and his face went white as the bunny nodded and walked in, closing the door with a soft click. The nurse padded over to the king only to slow to a stop and glance between the goat and the skeleton again. Sans could tell he wasn’t sure if he should give the bottle to Asgore because Cancell was only halfway in the goat’s grasp while still nuzzling into Sans’ hands.

Sans gave a nod with another reassuring smile. “It’s all right. Asgore would be delighted to feed little Cancell. He was just about to take him in his arms for the first time, weren’t you, my dear king?” And he smirked up at the frowning goat, daring the king to tear off his mask and reveal his true self.

Of course, he didn’t.

Instead, Asgore gave another quick glare to Sans before the nurse offered him the bottle. The goat glanced between the nurse and Sans before forcing a smile and taking Cancell into his arms. Asgore could hear Sans chuckle as the nurse helped the goat support Cancell’s skull against his upper arm while supporting his body with the rest of his arm and hand. The nurse even showed the two of them how to test the heat of the bottle before giving the bottle to Asgore and leaving the royal family alone.

Once the door was closed, Sans reached up towards Cancell and pulled back the little blanket forming a sort of hood, revealing the rest of Cancell’s face. His sockets were still closed, but his mouth, full of sharp fangs, opened and closed with soft clacks.

“He’s saying he’s hungry, Asgore,” Sans informed with a sweet smile and lidded sockets. “Go on and feed him.”

Asgore scowled. He didn’t have to feed this thing if he didn’t want to. He could just drop the creature in Sans arms and leaves. But what if that nurse was nearby? Asgore revealing himself right after being given a bottle would look suspicious, could even be seen as a sign of something being wrong. Damn this whole situation to the Void, coming in here should have been enough to keep the staff from questioning him, but now he had to feed this…. this thing to avoid even more suspicion. Best get this over with.

Grimacing, Asgore moved the bottle’s nipple to Cancell’s fangs. The tiny skeleton’s nose bone wiggled before he opened his mouth and snapped down on the nipple with a loud clack!

“He is nothing like me,” Asgore grumbled.

“Whaaat?” Sans feigned surprise, resting his skull on a propped up hand. “I don’t know, Asgore. He’s… cunning like you. Always plotting and the like. Very aware. Very…weary of others. His words are sharp and biting from time to time.. Yes, I think he is very much like you in regards to thinking and speech.”

Asgore bared his fangs. “He looks nothing like me.”

“Oh, that’s not true,” Sans waved off. “He definitely has your nose--- well, your nose bone. And those horns! …I mean, yes, his spiral, but he certainly didn’t get them from me. His sockets are a bit more circular than oval, too. He is definitely your---”

“Did you fornicate with that other skeleton?”

Sans lifted his skull as his sockets widen. He couldn’t speak for a moment, mind reeling for a few seconds before his sockets narrowed. “Are you being serious? …You are really being serious. For the love of…. Asgore, for your information, I never thought of Crimson as a potential lover. I rightfully couldn’t--- we only talked twice. He was an ally, a confidant. Secondly, how in the Underground could we have even managed that? I didn’t know how to open the door until you showed up and the door on the other side is flat, so Crimson can’t open it unless you trigger the door on your side first.”

“Don’t lie to me!” Asgore snapped. “This demon is and looks nothing like me! You even told me his pinpoints were the same color as that Spectral’s!”

“They are, but that is not because I slept with Crimson!” Sans shot back, sitting up. “Cancell is a Heartsick Soul, which means his Soul isn’t the “right” color, so, of course, his pinpoints aren’t the “right” color either! You would know that if you had done some reading yourself!”

Asgore glared and opened his mouth to retort when Cancell pushed the nipple out of his mouth and let out a little burp.

“Aww,” Sans cooed with a soft smile.

Asgore grimaced a bit as Cancell opened his sockets, revealing glowing red pinpoints.

‘Father,’ Cancell spoke to Asgore’s Soul. ‘So nice to see you. So nice to be here, existing. No… _living._ I am alive, father and you helped make my existence possible. I admit, there was a part of me that was angry at first, but I have come to realize that existing… that living, does have advantages. For one, I can see you, Father, every day for the rest of your life. I can remind you that I exist every. Single. Day.”

Asgore’s grimace grew all the more intense to the point that he was shaking, his eye twitching as his lip quivered. He shoved the tiny babe back into Sans arms, frown carving deeper into his face “Keep that thing away from me,” he growled before storming out of the room.

Sans could only blink, eyes wide. He knew he shouldn’t have been too surprised, seeing as Asgore cowered before Cancell’s very Soul, but he had thought the goat would put up more of a fight. In the end, Asgore always demanded Sans to keep Cancell away from him, never demanding anything of Cancell. Asgore had come to fear Cancell to such intensity that he couldn’t even talk to him, let alone, make demands.

‘Hmmm,’ Cancell hummed. ‘Father really isn’t fond of me, I see.’

“Yes, I’m afraid not,” Sans agreed with a sigh. “Either way, do be careful around him, will you?”

‘I will, Mother. I still have to grow into my magic after all. Speaking of magic, perhaps you should begin to research on a way to remove those bracelets.”

Sans frowned and a tiny blush graced his cheekbones. “Ah… you know about those.” The skeleton should have know he couldn’t keep anything from Cancell--- he had developed in his Soul with full awareness and Sans had felt him searching around in his Soul--- soft flutters and pulses when Cancell had been having a look around.

‘Of course I do,’ Cancell replied. ‘Your magic was concentrated in your Soul, unable to flow in either rate or route. I could sense a sort of… clog, of sorts. I filed through your memories--- nothing too deep, of course--- and I found the one pertaining to the bracelets. I have to say, you were more than just a little foolish in not even attempting to find a way to remove them. I highly doubt Asgore does not have a way to take them off. You know he is a liar, after all.’

“Oh, I’m sure he knows a method,” Sans noted as he cleaned a bit of milk off of Cancell’s fangs. “But I also highly doubt he has such instructions just written down somewhere. I imagine, like the Incantation for the door, he has all the answers in his head, paranoid as he is. Though he loves keeping records of all the monsters he’s killed and banished, like trophies,” Sans muttered. “But, I’m sure that’s another reason he put these bracelets on me--- he knew I would never find an answer because he’s the only one who has it. He takes such pleasures in others’ sufferings.”

‘How disgusting,’ Cancell let out a small whine. ‘I look forward to putting him in his place.’

Sans pulled the blanket closer around Cancell. “And how do you plan on doing that?”

‘My body and magic will grow in time with my mind,’ Cancell answered. ‘As the offspring of two Boss Level Monsters, I imagine, once I have control over my magic, that I can end the old goat’s life without problem or much effort.’

Sans stared into Cancell’s dazzling pinpoints. “…You really are going to kill him.”

‘Of course,’ Cancell replied, pinpoints steady. ‘As of now, that is the only option we have available to us in ending this nightmare. Though, we could just journey to The Basement and let Fate have her way.’

Sans gave a slight glare, teeth straight. “I told you, Cancell, I cannot leave this place as it is now. It wouldn’t be fair to the other monsters here who have no idea what danger they’re truly in.”

Cancell sighed and his sockets lidded. ‘I am aware. You care far too much for these foolish sheep.’

“They just don’t know any better,” Sans replied, looking towards the darken window of his room. “They have such faith in Asgore. Their faith is why words aren’t enough to convince them. That’s why we have to remove Asgore ourselves. He’ll kill them before they realize he’s not the benevolent king he feigns in front of them. Knowing all that I know now… I cannot leave them in the maw of the beast.”

Again, Cancell sighed. “You are far too compassionate. These monsters live in such a fantasy world with a perfect king and queen, fleeting hope and all. They want to cling to this ideal dream so much, I would not be surprised if some of them knew of the king’s true nature, but turn a blind eye to the truth so they can continue to leave in their safe, perfect world. That could be one reason why no one has offered aid.”

“They don’t offer aid because they don’t know anything is wrong,” Sans replied.

‘Hmm. Are you sure?’ Cancell challenged.

Sans glared. “If they knew, they wouldn’t just sit here and take such punishment, they wouldn’t live in fear. They would come together and do something about it.”

‘Oh, Mother,’ Cancelled heaved a heavy sigh. ‘Not everyone is brave. Not everyone is comfortable with challenging the status quo. Some are content with suffering in silence because doing so is all they know, doing so is safer than the real possibility of becoming Dust.’

“All the more reason to fight!” Sans countered. “You’re right, some of them may know something is wrong, but they’re scared to fight and I understand that fear. But unlike them, I don’t let that fear stop me and since I can work around my fear, I should fight for them. It would be wrong not to.”

Cancell let out another breath and gave a slow blink. He seemed to be conceding in trying to convince Sans to do anything but risk his life for the monsters of The Attic. After a few seconds of silence, he spoke, sounding a bit dejected. ‘Very well, Mother. I concede--- on one condition. May we strike a deal?'

Sans cocked his skull to the side, peering into Cancell’s blazing pinpoints. “ A deal? My, you really are a little devil, aren’t you? Well, then, go on.”

“I will no longer suggest leaving these fools to their demise if you begin researching a way to remove the bracelets. As of now, both of us are defenseless. If you desire to stay here, you must have a way to protect yourself until I come into my own magic. I know you believe Asgore to have a mental solution, but someone made those bracelets. Surely something of them must be written down somewhere. Find what you can and use that information to remove the bracelets or, at the least, find a way to work around them. Are these terms acceptable?”

“Hmm,” Sans tapped his chin. “I suppose. I understand that you are rather ardent about leaving The Attic. If you are willing to loosen your opinion on the matter, then yes, little devil, I agree with these terms. Once I recover from your birth, I will begin a new search.”

‘Very good.’ And Cancell’s fangs curled into an eerie smile. ‘Until then… let’s have fun with Father.’

And by fun, Cancell meant making Asgore as uncomfortable as possible. The goat tried his best to ignore his Queen and son at every juncture--- he did not acknowledge them in the halls or dining room. He spent his time in his own room doing Ink knew what, but Sans knew his goal was to not run into the two skeletons. The only time Asgore was around the two was if the staff was also nearby and Sans was walking down a hallway cradling the little voidspawn. The staff would coo and ahh at tiny Cancell (who would respond in turn, enjoying the attention despite the fact he claimed otherwise) and would inform Asgore that his son was just down the hall and that now was a good chance to shower him with love. Of course, Asgore had to be the caring king, so he forced himself to smile at his Queen and son, feign happiness and pride when he saw the two, not shove the bony beast into Sans’ arms when it spoke to him in his Soul, thanking the king for acknowledging him, for putting on a rather convincing act, for being so fun to play with.

On one particular day, Asgore had to be act as a proud father not once but four times and by that evening, he was at the end of his rope. He detested holding Cancell--- the demon felt cold and heavy, like a bag of ice. His bones felt too smooth, his pinpoints too blazing in the abyss of his sockets, burning like hot embers, always staring, peering.

Judging.

Asgore could feel that little voidspawn slithering and skulking around in his Soul, able to access the heart shape with ease since Asgore’s Soul had gone into demon’s creation. Cancell drew out memories of the war, of the blood and carnage--- he was nothing short of a living nightmare generator and Asgore was all too happy to shove the beast back into Sans’ arms when the staff left.

Sans glared, frown deep as he cradled his babe. “You are such a child,” he berated a glaring king. “You got exactly what you wanted and now you don’t want to have anything to do with him!”

Asgore snarled. “This is not what I wanted,” he grumbled as he leaned into Sans’ face. “This… creature,” Asgore motioned at Cancell, whose pinpoints glowed from under a hood formed by his blanket. “This creature was a mistake. That day was a mistake. And perhaps even making you queen was a mistake.”

“You’re right,” Sans sockets narrowed. “This whole thing was a mistake, but now you have to own it. You can’t just throw us away like you’ve done to everyone else. Remember that you need us, Asgore, to keep moral high, to keep everyone hopeful for an escape. You would be a lot better off if you just stopped ignoring the baby instead of acting like one!” Sans whipped around and paced down the hall, hoping Asgore had understood his message: that he and Cancell were still necessary to him. A part of Sans hoped that maybe Asgore would give up paranoid and brutal ways if someone just forced him to focus on what was of real importance--- his son and the well being of the kingdom. But he knew that was asking for too much. Asgore had been a brutal dictator wearing a mask of kindness for centuries--- the habits and thoughts were ingrained in him deep within his mind and Soul, too deep for him to turn away from them. The next best thing Sans could do was remind Asgore that he still needed him and Cancell to keep some form of order in the kingdom.

However, Sans’ doubt began to grow when he heard Asgore’s low warning.

“Do not be so quick to place your value to me so highly, My Queen.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For a deal with a devil, the terms aren't too bad. :3
> 
> Too bad we can't just make a deal with Asgore to rid us of all this impending doom....


	10. Tapho

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> And the door is opened....

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Heyo! Oh, what's this? More sadness? Oh my....

“Wooooo! Bwoooo! Booom! Twooosh!”

Sans glanced back from the bookshelf at Cancell, as small smile spreading on his skull. The little horned skeleton was sitting on the carpeted floor of the library, playing with a few toys--- cars and boats--- by bashing them into each other.

For all of his deep thoughts and plan making, Cancell was still a child at the core of his Soul--- and a growing one at that. At only a few weeks old, he was already sitting up without much aid. He hadn’t been joking about his body soon following his mind.

As Sans returned to the books in front of him, he made a note to cherish all the times he could still cuddle Cancell.

Ah, who was Sans kidding? He would always cuddle Cancell no matter how old he became. He was Sans’ little angel dressed in devil horns.

Sans smiled at the thought and looked back at Cancell who seemed to sit up straighter. Bright crimson pinpoints stared at the small skeleton.

‘Mother…. What is it?’

“Oh, nothing,” Sans smiled. “Just noting how cute you are.”

Cancell frowned. ‘I am not cute.’

Sans turned back to the bookshelf, smile never leaving his skull. “You are very cute, Cancell.”

‘I am not cute!’ Cancell whined, frown deepening.

“Oh? Then what are you?”

Cancell glared back at his toys. ‘I am a little curse and voidspawn. I am going to be the one responsible for Asgore’s death. Then I will be king and I will lead us to glory against the humans.’

Sans chuckled. “Such big words for such a tiny skelebaby.”

‘They are words of truth!’ Cancell insisted. ‘I am already sitting up! Soon, I will crawl, then walk, then run. And when I master my magic, I will destroy Asgore! I will make him pay for all of his sins--- against you and me, against Crimson, against everyone! Maybe I will throw him to The Basement and let them finish him off. That way, both sides can have vengeance.’

“Well, many of the monsters he initially wronged are most likely Dust,” Sans pointed out as he pulled out a book titled Not So Magical Items and Charms.

‘...Toriel is still down there.’

Sans paused in opening the book, but only for a second. “… I wonder what she would do if she saw him again. Perhaps nothing?” he answered, voice low. “Her magic would have stopped working down there, unless she’s had time to somehow attune to the lower frequency and can now use talismans. But…,” Sans turned his back to the book case and leaned backward. He looked up at the glass ceiling. “I think she would, at first, ask ‘Why? Why did you betray me? Why did you see me as your enemy? Why were you not honest with your fears and emotions?’ She had always been rather curious. I think she would want to know why above all else.”

‘Hm,’ Cancell grumbled. ‘I would kill him on first sight.’

Sans sighed. “I know, Cancell,” he replied as he turned back to the shelf and opened the book in his hands. “But, Toriel was… Toriel was very kind and gentle. I can only hope The Basement has not changed that--- but I don’t believe her first gut reaction would be to kill Asgore. In fact… I think she would cry.”

‘Cry!?’ Cancell balked, staring at his mother.

“Because the one monster she loved and cherished above all others hurt her so,” Sans explained.

‘Tsk!’ Cancell snapped and whipped his skull back around to his toys. The candy red scarf around his neck flapped in response. ‘What a waste of time. Crying. Crying does nothing but soil your clothes and face.’

Sans closed the book after finding the contents unhelpful. Nothing about bracelets or any magic-sealing objects for that matter. “There is nothing wrong with crying. It’s… cathartic. It releases negative emotions and allows you to think clearer.”

‘Hmph. You can probably say that about any emotion.’

“Oh?” Sans questioned as put back the book and scanned the bookshelf again.

‘Yes,’ Cancell replied, turning a small wooden horse in his tiny and clawed, bony hands. ‘If you feel rage, cut down that which enrages you. You will certainly feel better afterwards.’

Sans gave a side glance to his son as he pulled down another book, Anti-Magic and You. “I’m afraid that is not always an option.”

Cancell turned again to face his mother, sockets wide. ‘And why not? Is that not the logical course of action?’

“Well, yes, logically, but emotions and morals must overcome such logic. What if the reason you are upset is because of another monster?”

‘Then you cut down that monster and relieve yourself of all negative effects they caused you!’ Cancell snapped far quicker than Sans liked.

The taller skeleton sighed and closed the book, then glanced up at the ceiling, a tired hand coming to his forehead. After a moment of collecting his thoughts, Sans walked over to his son and squatted down in front of him. “My little angel in devil’s horns, you cannot cut down everyone who makes you upset.”

‘Why not!?’ Cancell demanded with a shake of tiny fists.

“Shh, calm down,” Sans whispered, resting the book on the floor, then taking Cancell’s fists in his hands. “Love, if everyone cut down everyone else who hurt them in the slightest, there would be no one left in the entire world. You must learn to talk to others and work out your differences with words.” Sans stretched out Cancell’s fists and held them in his. “Violence must always be a last resort, because once someone is gone, they can never come back.”

Cancell stared at his mother’s hands embracing his. ‘But, there are some monsters who would serve the world better by being gone, would they not?

Sans closed his sockets for a moment. “Some, yes. There are sometimes when the death of a person can be a great help to a group.”

‘I see…. So, it is not the cutting down that is problematic, but cutting down the correct monster for the best result,’ Cancell murmured. ‘Why should I waste my magic on a singular offense against me when I would be better aiming for someone who has done several, personal offenses against many?’

Sans sighed again. “Yes, I suppose that is one way to look at the situation.”

‘Very well,’ Cancell nodded. ‘I will cut down those whose offenses affect many, starting with Asgore.’

“Yes, of course,” Sans nodded.

‘Speaking of that tyrant, have you seen him lately?’ Cancell asked, gaze settling on his mother’s.

“Oh, now that you mention it…,” Sans tapped his chin. “I don’t think I have for quite some time.” The taller skeleton then smiled at Cancell. “I suppose I have been enjoying my time with you so much that I have not noticed Asgore around as often.”

Cancell flushed a bright cherry red before looking away. ‘His absence worries me, Mother. He may be planning something. We must be careful.’ The tiny skeleton looked back at his mother. ‘You have searched for days and still have found no answer to the bracelets and all I can do with my magic is this.’ He pointed a finger at a toy car. The toy grew a thick black outline and floated several inches in the air before Cancell shot the toy against the far wall where the wooden plaything exploded with a loud pop. Several maids jumped.

Sans looked at his son’s handiwork. “I think it’s impressive.”

‘That will not have the same effect on a larger target such as Asgore,’ Cancell growled, crossing his arms. ‘I need stronger magic.’

“You will get there in time,” Sans smiled and gave Cancell an encouraging pat on the skull.

Blushing, Cancell reached up and lifted the hand from his skull. ‘That is the problem, Mother! Neither of us know how much time we have!’

And another day came to an end with no new answers….

After feeding and changing Cancell, Sans wrapped him in Papyrus’ scarf, the piece of clothing warm enough to serve as a sort of additional blanket. He then rested his little bundle in the bassinet not quite near his bed. With Asgore’s hatred for Cancell more than evident, Sans didn’t dare let Cancell sleep alone in his nursery. The nursery room had become Cancell’s play room as a result.

Sans read a few stories to lull Cancell to sleep, smiled for a few minutes at remembering doing the same for his little brother, then locked the door and windows. He put out the candles, then settled down in his own bed and fell into a quiet, deep sleep.

Sans wasn’t sure how much time passed before he heard a tiny voice calling out form the darkness.

_…Sans…._

_…Papyrus….? What…._

_Wake up…._

_What…?_

_Wak---_

_Wha--- No! Mother! Mother!_

Sans’ sockets shot open. He scurried to get his hands and kneecaps, sockets wide, breath haggard. His bones were cold, though sweat poured down his skull. “Can… Cancell…?” he called into the darkness.

No answer.

“Cancell!?” Sans scrambled out of bed and tripped his way to the bassinet.

Empty.

“...No…. No, no no, NO!” Sans screamed as he bolted from his room. “Cancell!?”

‘MOTHER! MOTHER! ASGORE---AHHHH!’

Sans’ world began to close in around him.

_Asgore…._

He couldn’t hear anything, couldn’t feel anything.

_Asgore has…._

His vision dimmed to a single point.

_Asgore has my baby._

Tunnel vision.

Sans burst into a full run. He bolted down the stairs, barreled around corners and flew down hallways. The only thing on his mind was Cancell--- not screaming for help, not shouting that his baby had been kidnapped--- no, that would mean stopping to explain because someone would stop him to have him explain and there was no time for talking, just running, breathing deep to keep running, running to save his baby.

Sans couldn’t lose Cancell. After everyone else who was lost to him, he couldn’t lose his own child.

 _I’ll Dust, I’ll Dust if I lose him!_ Sans’ bewildered mind managed to scream as he dashed around the corner and into the dead end hall. He stormed down the hall, threw open the door and screamed, “ASGORE!!!”

The goat stood in front of the open stone door, Cancell in a little basket, scarf tied around his mouth and eyes. His screaming was muffled.

 **“WHAT THE HELL DO YOU THINK YOU’RE DOING!?”** Sans demanded, sockets wide, teeth bared.

“Getting rid of things no longer necessary to me,” Asgore answered, voice cold, no emotion in the dead tone. “I warned you not to overestimate your value to me. By the way.” A long smirk crawled over his face. “In the future, change the locks if you truly desire to keep someone from taking what you hold precious.”

And without warning or hesitation, the towering goat threw the basket---baby and all--- down the stairs.

Sans was after the basket in a split second. His bare feet clacked with loud echos as he jumped down the stairs two or three at a time to catch up to the tumbling basket.

When Sans rounded another loop of the spiraling stairs, he found the basket caught on the inner wall of the staircase, upside down, with Cancell screaming on the underlying step.

“Cancell!” Sans screamed, dropping to his knees and tosses the basket aside. “Mother’s here, love! Momma’s here, it’s okay!” He called as he pulled the scarf off and found that the little babe had no visible injuries. He had been far more terrified of being kidnapped and thrown downstairs.

Sans gave silent words of gratitude for his brother’s protection while he cradled Cancell against his ribcage. “It’s okay, it’s okay,” he whispered over and over, rocking back and forth. “You’re safe now, lovely. Momma’s here. Shhh, there you go, you’re all right now. You’re----”

**THOOOOM**

Sans’ sockets widen again.

He knew that sound, Gods Above and Below, **he knew that sound.** The shaking echo vibrated through the staircase, right into the pit of Sans’ Soul.

A part of him refused to believe that Asgore had really….

No, no, he hadn’t…. he hadn’t really.… He still needed Sans and Cancell, didn’t he?

Gulping, Sans turned his skull to look up the darkening steps. He didn’t hear anything other than the settling of the stone staircase.

Holding Cancell closer to his ribcage, Sans ascended up the steps, praying to both Ink and Error that he would see the light of the candles just around the next bend, the next bend… maybe… the next bend?

Sans came to a solid wall.

For a few long seconds, all he could do was stare, sockets still wide.

This couldn’t be happening… this could not be happening!

“...As…Asgore…. Asgore, open the door,” Sans spoke, voice cracking from the strain of the situation, unable to reach above a whisper. “You can’t….” Sans tried to hold back tears. “You can’t leave us here!” His voice broke out. “What are you going to tell everyone!?”

Asgore chuckled. “My Court, the Queen did not want anyone to know of this, but he was secretly fighting postpartum depression. I know, I know, he appeared so happy with our child. That is the kind of strength he had. But, I am afraid it was far worse than I thought. With a heavy heart, I must inform you all that the Queen has killed our child and then, took his own life to atone for his heinous sin.”

Sans’ mouth fell open. Had he… had he heard that right? Asgore was going to make this look like a murder-suicide? This was too much, too unreal. “Are… are you insane!? I would never kill Cancell, even if I was depressed! This is crazy, Asgore! No one would ever believe this! Everyone knows how happy Cancell made me, they’ve never once seen me unhappy around him! You can’t honestly think they’re going to believe I killed him and then killed myself!”

“I can convince them otherwise, I assure you,” Asgore replied with a little chuckle.

Sans’ grief of being tossed to The Basement was swallowed by the growing rage burning in his ribcage. “That’s what you’ve been doing these past few days, isn’t it? You’ve been orchestrating this--- a way to get rid of us!”

“You would be correct,” Asgore answered. “I took the time to do my own research on the ailments that can happen to pregnant monsters--- yes, I took your advice and did some reading of my own,” he laughed. “In my reading, I found out about postpartum depression and how terrible it can become. It was the perfect tool for my plan. And, in the time I read, you bonded to your little voidspawn on such a deep level that you ran straight here without calling for help. Ah, the one tracked mind of a mother looking for a lost child.” Asgore broke into a hearty laugh, the sound scratching at Sans ‘ears’ and Soul, making him growl through anger tears.

“You sick, twisted---,” Sans spat. “You would use someone’s emotions against them like this, wouldn’t you!?” Though, inside, Sans berated himself for not screaming for help, but he hadn’t wanted to take a risk of having to stop and explain anything. He already knew where to go, a crowd would have slowed him down--- granted how delicious arriving with a crowd would have been, the monsters able to see their true king…

…Before he slaughtered them all with fire, of course.

By not screaming for help, Sans may have saved several lives and he had to count himself lucky that his running hadn’t woken anyone else up.

But, would Asgore’s story be enough? Would anyone really believe Sans had been depressed enough to kill Cancell and then himself?

“This won’t work, Asgore!” Sans cried. “No one is going to believe you!”

“As I said, I have my ways. Would you like to learn a little secret? Ash from the fireplace looks quite a lot like Dust at a glance.”

Sans blinked. “Ash from the….?” And then the dots connected in Sans’ mind. “That’s why Toriel’s Dust felt so strange…, “ he whispered. “And the fireplace was always burning. It wasn’t Dust at all. It was ash from the fireplace….”

“Yes!” Asgore laughed. “At a glance, it’s the perfect look and feel of Dust! Perfect for all of my plans!”

 **“You piece of traitorous shit!”** Sans exploded. “You mark my words, Asgore! I promise you that all of this is going to come back to you a thousandfold! The Gods Above and Below are going to destroy you!! Mark my words!!”

Asgore continued his haughty laugh. “I have been doing this for hundreds of years. I’ve had a few hiccups here and there, but I always succeed. I assure you, my reign will be eternal, and nothing will stop me. Not you, nor the wrath of the Gods you pray to. Nothing will stand in my way!” And Asgore’s laugh began to grow softer until the sound cut short with a soft thunk.

The door leading into the hidden room was closed.

Silence.

Sans and Cancell were alone---and Red wouldn’t be coming to get them.

‘...Mother…,’ Cancell whispered.

“It’s all right, love,” Sans reassured his babe. “We’ll… we’ll figure something out.”

‘...I’m sorry….’

Sans blinked before looking down at Cancell’s teary face.

‘I… I wasn’t able to become strong soon enough….,’ Cancell sniffed before breaking into a torrent of sobs.

“Oh, my little angel in devil’s horns,” Sans hugged Cancell close. “It’s okay. The important thing is that you are okay and I’m here to protect you now.”

‘B-but what are w-we going t-to do?’ Cancell spoke through tears.

“Well… Red told me that Toriel lives near here. We can find her and then.. I don’t know. Let’s just find Toriel first.”

“O-okay.”

Sans turned from the door, holding Cancell as close as possible. He began to step down the spiraling set of stone stairs only to stop when he heard a distinct _chi-ching!_

“What?” Sans looked down at his feet. “Oh….”

At his feet were the two sliver bracelets.

“They must need the magic frequency of The Attic to work,” Sans spoke as Cancell peered to the floor. “Now that we’re not in The Attic, they stopped working. I’m not sure what good it’ll do, to be honest,” Sans admitted. “Since I don’t know how to use Talismans, but, maybe this is a sign things are looking up.” Sans gave Cancell a small smile, trying to instill some hope in this otherwise futile situation. Cancell only rested his skull against Sans’ ribcage.

Sans continued down the stairs and soon, he found the basket and placed Cancell within its thin blanket, then wrapped him in Papyrus’ scarf. “Try to get some rest, dear,” he smiled at the sullen babe. Sans straightened up, then continued down the steps which ended at an archway.

The little skeleton took a careful peek outside of the tower housing the staircase. “…Wow….”

The crisp air was full of bumblebee yellow, fire orange and ruby red leaves, flying below a--- was that a dim, fall day sky, wispy clouds and all? No, the workings of some sort of rock and magic for certain, but Sans was still captivated.

Was this really The Basement?

Red hadn’t made light of his ancestors making something out of this place.

Sans pulled his wide sockets from the sight long enough to search for a sign, but all he found was a worn, dirt path.

That would have to do.

As much as Sans wanted to explore, he had to find Toriel. Maybe she knew what had happened to Red--- the two were acquaintances at least.

And… if Red was alive, then the least Sans could do was apologize for not heeding his warnings more, for all the pain he had caused.

Right now, with no way back to The Attic, finding Toriel, apologizing to Red…that was all Sans could think to do….

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Taphophobia- a fear of graves or being placed in a grave while still alive.
> 
> How unfortunate....


	11. Nosto

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I'm glad you're alive.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello all! Today, things may be looking up for our little skeles. Let's hope!

Sans’ footsteps padded along the dirt path, sometimes crunching leaves under his bare phalanges. He wasn’t sure, but the “sky” seemed to be getting darker and he had the odd feeling someone was watching him.

 _‘Red did say this place was kinda… spooky…,’_ Sans remembered as he glanced around the trees. Would he see those shadows Red had spoken of?

With a gulp, Sans took a quick glance into the basket. Cancel was sleeping, but he seemed to be having some sort of nightmare: the shaky scowl on his face wouldn’t leave him. Sans looked to the sprawling path. _‘I hope Toriel’s close by the path. Red didn’t say anything about going off trail to see her. He made it sound as if her house was right on the way to the steps, like you wouldn’t have trouble seeing it at all.’_ The tiny skeleton shivered when a cool wind blew past him, when the sky above darkened to ultramarine.

 _‘Definitely getting darker…,’_ Sans noted as he continued along the path. ‘Still no signs anywhere. Though, if this place is like The Attic, everything is probably linear for the most part.’

“Oh…” Sans slowed to a stop and squinted. “Are those… lights! Maybe that’s her house. Just around a few more bends.” Now more excited, Sans picked up the pace, careful not to shake Cancell awake. In a few more moments, a tiny stone cottage the color of clouds threatening rain came into view. A dim light fluttered from the windows facing the path and smoke streamed from the brick red chimney.

Sans kept a swift stride to the tawny brown door. He went to knock only to stop with his hand inches from the door’s surface.

He felt that sensation again--- the sensation of being watched.

With a small gulp, Sans turned to his right and saw… something.

A dark mass low to the ground, like a small animal. A dog, maybe? A part of silver eyes glinted in the low light of the evening, staring at Sans in what the skeleton hoped was curiosity.

Sockets still on the… thing… Sans gave the door a few quick knocks.

“Just a moment,” came a soft voice.

Heavy footsteps, then the door creaking open….

“Good e--- SANS!?”

“OOF!” Sans gasped as Toriel gathered him into her arms and ample bosom.

“I can’t believe it’s you!!” She began to sob as she picked him up off the ground and swayed from side to side. “You’re alive! Thank the Great Ones, you’re alive!”

“Ah-gu! Tori, it’s great t’see you, too, but--Ah! I have a baby! BABY IN THE BASKET!!”

Toriel froze. “Baby?” She lowered the coughing Sans back to the ground and peered into the basket.

Cancell shuddered a bit before he sneezed.

“My word,” Toriel whispered, hand coming to her mouth. “Where did this little one come from?” she asked in a much softer tone.

“It… It’s a long story, Tori,” Sans replied, voice low.

“Of course, of course, come in,” Toriel replied as she stepped aside.

Sans smiled before taking a quick glance back up the path.

The shadow thing was gone.

 _‘Maybe I imagined it?’_ Sans thought as he walked into Toriel’s cottage.

When she closed the door, warmth and the smell of cookies wrapped around Sans. He felt safe for the first time in weeks.

To his left, an enclosed fire blazed, casting warm light over muted browns and pinks of the living room. Sans could see the kitchen in the back left, counter covered in used pans, bowls and spoons. There were two other doors, one at the back and the other opposite the living room. A full bookcase set to the right of the back door.

In front of the fire place were two cozy chairs and a tiny table between them. Sans followed Toriel to the chairs and took a seat.

“Do you need anything?” the goat asked. “Is the baby all right?”

“He’s still sleeping,” Sans answered as he gathered Cancell in his hands and pulled him into his ribcage. Something about holding the baby close brought Sans much needed peace. As long as Sans had Cancell, the little skeleton felt he would be all right.

“Are you hungry or thirsty?” Toriel asked, not taking a seat. She seemed determined to get anything Sans requested.

“Just tired, to be honest,” Sans answered. “But, I have so many questions, I don’t know where to start.”

“You just rest,” Toriel smiled. “Though I wish to know what happened to you, I know first hand that you have probably been through a traumatic experience. You rest and I’ll prepare some tea for you while telling you of my experience. I will even warm up some milk for the little one to have later,” she nodded as she shuffled into the kitchen.

“Thank you,” Sans gave a tired smile. “But, before you begin, I would like to ask you about someone named Red. He says he knows you, have you seen him?”

“Ah, yes… Crimson…,” Toriel whispered as she reached into the cabinets hanging over the counter. “He was supposed to come by for leftovers. I grew worried and went in search from him--- Crimson never misses leftovers, you see. I…” Her gaze shifted to the counter, going distant. “I found him at the bottom of the stairs, severely burned. I used a Provision Talisman---oh, our healing magic--- I healed him as best I could to at least give him something to hang onto. I raced back to cottage to send a message to the castle, then attended to Crimson as best as my skills would allow until hospital staff arrived. As far as I know, he has been recovering at the castle.”

“So…. he’s alive?” Sans asked, peering into the kitchen.

“Hm,” Toriel nodded as she began to heat up some water on the stove. “I haven’t been to visit him, as the Prince asked me to take over for Crimson while he recovered, but I haven’t heard any bad news, so I’m assuming he’s doing well.”

Sans sniffed, letting the tears fall as relief washed over him. Red was alive…. Red was alive! He was recovering!

…He was at the castle….

‘ _I have to get there. I have to see him for myself, apologize for leading Asgore to him,’_ Sans thought. _‘But, he’s alive, thank the Gods Above and Below, he’s alive!’_ The tiny skeleton brushed away his tears as Toriel strolled from the kitchen.

“Here we are,” she spoke as she lowered the tray of tea onto the table, then took a seat. She took up her mug, then a few sips, (as did Sans after resting Cancell on his opposite arm), gazing into the fire, letting the silence settle for a few moments, letting the warmth relax Sans’ tired Soul, mind and bones.

A part of Sans wanted the silence to last just a while longer, but his attention snapped back to Toriel when she began to speak, tone deliberate.

“The type of damage Crimson attained… I can only imagine Asgore committed such an atrocity.”

Sans rested his mug on the table and looked down at Cancell’s face. He smiled for a second when he saw the scowl was gone so the tiny babe looked more rested. But the smile vanished as he began to speak. “It was my fault,” he said, voice just above a whisper. “He warned me not to go to the door so often…. But I was so sure Asgore would never find out I knew about that door.” Sans paused for a minute, letting his mistake sink deeper into his Soul. “That door… you didn’t know about it either, did you?”

Toriel nodded after a sip of tea. “Correct. I didn’t know about that room, that door, or even The Basement until that night…. As you know, weeks before my disappearance, Asgore and I were at odds with the way he handled the human who…. Oh, Papyrus….” She whispered, before gulping down tears. “I’m sorry… where was I…? Oh yes, well, I knew Asgore was not above killing human children, but, that time was particularly… vicious. I know you were in the Judgement Hall…. I was outside the Judgement Hall entrance and could still hear the child’s torturous screams. For many days, I argued with Asgore about his methods, his morals, about his course of action the next time a human arrived. Would he be just as savage then? I asked him if the torture was worth our freedom, if he truly felt this was the right thing to do--- torturing a child. I asked him… if he did this because of the murder or because he was beginning to receive some sort of sick joy from his actions. You see, his methods of exterminating the children were becoming more…. elaborate. He would take long minutes to accomplish something that a few seconds could achieve. Even before the torture of that child, I began to question his savagery. Perhaps if I had questioned him earlier, I could have pulled him back from the abyss I saw him sinking in…,” Toriel’s gaze fell to the crackling fire, her voice having gone from soft to vanishing in silence for long moments. Her eyes held pain and regret, tears shimmering in the fire’s light. She sniffed before she continued.

“I tried to reason with him, tried to convince him to use another method to punish violent humans… I… I didn’t want to hear those screams again.” She grabbed at her dress with a slight flinch. “He refused and, in desperation, I threatened to bring his actions to the people, to have them be judge and jury, not only of him but of our next course of action in regards to humans. He… went very quiet after that.”

Sans picked up his mug, stared into the dark, swirling liquid. “Asgore is obsessed with keeping his rule over the kingdom. In that instant, you went from being a mere annoyance to a threat.”

Toriel squeezed at her dress, fingers shaking. “I see…. I suppose that’s why…. Yes, several days later, he woke me very late into the night. He told me a human was in the castle and he wanted me to be there to help him decide on what to do. I was happy he had come to value my opinion on the matter. He led me down the hall, then we turned into a hallway leading to a dead end. Oh, we had put in that hallway some time after the castle was built, to later become a small wing for any children we may have had. I was confused when he lead me down that hall. There was, of course, no human there. I grew worried, anxious, but I asked if he had taken a wrong turn., In that next instance, he grabbed me after lifting the door. He tossed me into that dark room and before I could get my bearings, he opened the stone door. He grabbed me again and, by then, I was terrified. I could not even conjure flame--- Asgore’s Intent pinned made my Soul freeze. He told me… “If only you had been good” and… he threw me down the steps… just like that….” Toriel’s eyes went distant again.

“By the time I had gotten up and returned to the top of the staircase, the door was closed and I was trapped. When I left the stairs, Crimson was coming up the path and introduced himself. He told me about The Basement as we traveled to the castle so I could be registered as a citizen. All this time….” She brought a knuckle to her mouth, bit down to hold back tears. “All this time this place existed and I was none the wiser! Asgore had given me a convincing lie for the hallway’s origin--- a place for our future children, so I never questioned it. Somehow, thousands of monsters passed through that door and I never knew! With the state of our race, I just… I believed every lie he told me--- Uprisings, traitorous monsters, suicides, everything was plausible…. Like a damned fool, I never questioned any of it! But… I never had a reason to….” Toriel’s body sunk at her words. “I never thought Asgore would lie to me, would betray me. He was my husband and I loved him and I thought… I thought he loved me, I never thought he would be so… manipulative, so hungry for power, so evil and vile. All this time….” Toriel whispered as she lowered into head into her shaking hands. “All this time, this monster I thought I knew was never real. All I saw was the mask he wore….”

Sans lowered his mug to the table, then reached over and rested a reassuring hand on Toriel’s shaking shoulder. “It’s all right, Toriel. He had all of us fooled. We only saw the benevolent act he put on, you more so than any else I would think. Of course you didn’t want to think poorly of him. He was your husband, your confidant, your best friend. No one wants to assume the worst of someone like that. So, you believed him. No one can blame you for believing in him, especially since anyone else with an inkling of his true nature or just appeared to be a threat in his eyes, regardless of rather they knew his nature or not, was disposed of. There was no evidence to the contrary, because Asgore always found a way to get rid of it all.”

“But an entire species of monsters!?” Toriel shot, looking at Sans with dripping eyes. “Asgore told me that the Spectrals had plans to rise up against him, and that’s why he put them down and I just let it happen like a fool! An entire species doomed because I had such foolish, unwavering faith in that beast!” She cried into her hands again.

“Toriel, at the time, when everything was chaos, what would you have wanted to believe?” Sans started. “That your light in the storm was an illusion or that the storm had good reason to extinguish that light? Of course you want to believe in that light. It’s only natural. So, please don’t blame yourself for believing in Asgore. He tricked all of us.”

Toriel only replied with more sobbing. Sans stayed beside her and rubbed her back until her sobs and deep breathes settled into soft sniffing. She took off her apron and used the cloth to dry her face.  

“Earlier,” she spoke, voice a little hoarse. “You said Asgore would throw anyone he saw as a threat down to The Basement. Is that why you’re here? You were a threat, or had an inkling?”

Sans nodded. “He saw me as a threat and acted quickly to render me useless in a fight. It’s actually a very long story, and the exhaustion of the day is catching up to me, I”m afraid.” 

"Of course," Toriel nodded. “You and the little one may take my bed for the night. I’ll sleep in a chair. I still need to wait for the cookies to finish baking anyway.”

Sans stared. “Are you sure? I don’t want to be a bother. Cancell has his basket, so he’s fine. I can sleep in the chair.”

Toriel nodded. “I insist. Trust me, Sans, you will feel much better after sleeping in a bed. Tomorrow, if you are up for it, you may tell me your tale and then we will decided what to do from there. My bedroom is through that door,” she motioned to the door behind them, opposite the wall housing the fireplace. “The door by the bed leads into the bathroom, so feel free to clean up before you go to bed.”

Sans smiled and held back tears. “Thank you so much, Toriel.”

“Of course. Even now, you and I are best friends. We must help each other in the best ways we are able. Now, off to bed.”

Sans nodded and slid from the chair. He picked up Cancell’s basket, said goodnight to Toriel and walked to the door of her room. When he opened the door, he was greeted by a room of different shades of purple. He clicked on a desk light to his right, casting low light across the room. He closed the door and felt safe enough not to lock the knob.

Sans then walked over to the plush bed, sat the basket on the mattress and rested Cancell atop the basket’s blanket. He arranged the scarf around Cancell, sat the babe on the floor, basket and all, then tossed himself across the whole of the bed, too tired to clean up first. He and Cancell could bathe tomorrow. He knew both of them were exhausted and sleep was all that mattered right now.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I feel like Toriel's story is a little weak. I mean, I guess she just wasn't at the castle when Asgore tossed all the Spectrals down there. It's possible if she stayed in her room while Asgore was "taking care of them." She obviously isn't the violent type, so Asgore did all the dirty work.   
> Maybe her unwavering faith in Asgore was also due to the war. Everything was a mess, so many monsters were gone, but Asgore was this sort of solid pillar to her. He was always there no matter how bad things got, so she trusted him more and more until that trust blinded her to thinks going on around her--- she never questioned anything. Maybe a part of her was afraid that if she did, that pillar would go away. I should have had that come out more. >.< But, at the time, stuff was really crazy, so having monsters go crazy probably wasn't too uncommon, so of course it was easy to believe they were being more threatening or just killing themselves off.   
> Ug, what a bleak world that was. Trusting blindly would be easier than stopping and looking around at all that mess.
> 
> Nostophobia- the fear of returning home.


	12. Caino

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Why didn't you say something sooner? Is it really because you....?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello all! I took labor day off, mostly to spend time with my husband, so updates will be late this week. The next one will be Friday.   
> I might also take the week off next week to build up backlog because there is only one chapter left in it >.< I did a mental summery of chapters and I think we have around 10 or 11 left? It's just a really rough estimate, though, so don't quote me on that, but knowing how I want chapters to go, that's what I came up with.   
> I really do have to take my time with this story because the chapters are a lot longer than what I'm used to, so I hope you can understand and please remain patient with me. Thank you!  
> Finally, this is one of my favorite chapters ( i seem to have a lot of those for this story). I feel both Cancell and Toriel get some nice development. Enjoy!

When Sans awoke the next morning, he blinked at the sight before him.

Cancell was standing up in his basket, little phalanges tugging at his scarf, sockets wide in curiosity.

 _...Okay. Why is my weeks old child already standing up?_ Sans asked himself, mind still in haze. _I could be dreaming, but… I’m fairly certain I’m awake._

“Cancell?” Sans called.

Crimson pinpoints looked up at him. “Momma!” Cancell smiled, reaching for him. Of course, the little skeleton lost his balance and began to tilt forward, causing Sans to lean down out of the bed and catch him.

“Wait, you’re already talking, too!?” Sans cried, mind even more bewildered.

Cancell smirked--- not smiled, smirked--- as he pushed off Sans’ arms to stand up straight. ‘I told you, my body would become equal to my mind in time. Unfortunately, this also includes my ability to speak with my mouth. I just cannot seem to master my tongue. It refuses to stay manifested for any real length of time.’ Cancell glared, pinpoints shifting down as he opened his mouth and tried to form a tongue. Candy red flickered in between his jaws before his tongue flopped out of his mouth.

Cancell growled as his frustration and embarrassment bloomed over his cheekbones in a dazzling display of red. He balled his hands, closed his sockets tight and exploded into a wave of shrieking and tears.

“Oh, no, sweet thing!” Sans called as he crawled out of bed and onto the floor. “It’s okay, you’ll get better with practice,” he reassured Cancell as he gathered the screeching toddler into his arms. “Come on, now.”

‘It’s not fair!’ Cancell wailed to Sans’ Soul. ‘I wanna be good with my magic NOW!’

Sans rolled his pinpoints with a sigh, remembering the tantrums Papyrus used to throw when he was denied a toy or told to go to bed. The easiest way to quiet a tantrum was to distract them with something else because ninety percent of the time, what they were angry about wasn’t as important as they had first thought.

“Little one, are you hungry?” Sans asked.

To that question, Cancell quieted down in seconds. He sniffed and gave a slow nod.

“All right then, let’s go have breakfast,” Sans smiled as he walked over to the door. He jumped and held Cancell tighter when the door opened by itself.

“Oh, I’m sorry!” Toriel apologized, bowing. “I should have knocked first! I just heard the baby crying, so I got dressed to see if you needed help with him.”

Sans sighed. “I’m sorry, Toriel. I guess I’m still on edge. And Cancell is fine, he’s just hungry.”

Toriel gave a knowing smiled. “I left the milk near the embers of the fire, so it should still be relatively warm. What would you like for breakfast?”

“Anything would be great,” Sans answered.

Toriel nodded and turned to head into the kitchen, Sans heading for the fireplace. He was surprised to see the milk in a bottle, which made him think… had kids been tossed down here, too? Entire families? Toriel didn’t have a child, so why else would she have a bottle?

Sans took a few breaths to settle the nausea swirling in the space where his gut would be. He settled Cancell in a chair, checked the bottle temperature (lukewarm) and offered Cancell the drink.

With a little help from Sans, Cancell was able to hold up the bottle on his own for a few minutes.

 _This is probably a good time to do a CHECK,_ Sans decided as he opened his Soul to Cancell.

 

**Cancelleresca (Cancell) Crimson Skeleton**

***Your Son**

***Acts like an adult, but still a child at heart.**

***Loves you very much!**

***Being called ‘cute’ is his only weakness.**

**HP: 15**

**DEF: 10**

**ATK: 20**

**Dexterity: 1**

**Intelligence: 10**

**Wisdom: 5**

**Charisma: 20**

**Perception: 10**

**Luck: 5**

 

 _Okay,_ Sans nodded. _There are the extra stats… pretty self-explanatory… and a magic type called… Shopping Spree? … 'A new era of magic is open to you…. Skills are… 2, 4, 1? Oh, Two For One… and… Mix and Match. Two For One allows for two types of magic to be used at once, but separated. Mix and Match allows two different types of magic to be combined together._

Sans closed the connection. “Well, at least that matches up with that I read, though I thought you would get one type or the other,” Sans admitted, keeping his voice low. “Both Asgore and I are Boss Level Monsters, so maybe that was the boost you needed to get both? But… Why is the entire move set called Shopping Spree?” he questioned as he looked back down at Cancell who was still enjoying his milk. Sans cocked a brow bone. “I’m assuming the move set’s name is based on a trait of the magic user, so…,” Sans leaned in closer, making Cancell gaze away. “Am I going to have to keep a close socket on you if we end up in a shopping district?”

Cancell gave a rushed nod, gaze still towards the ceiling, wide, innocent and unknowing of any wrong doing.

Sans narrowed his sockets. “Hm… we’ll see…,” the skeleton murmured as he straightened up.

“Sans,” Toriel called as she left the kitchen with a steaming mug. “Some coffee. I’m making biscuits for breakfast. I’ve been told their size makes them quite filling. Let me just put them on the fire and we can talk.” She headed back into the kitchen.

“Thank you,” Sans called after her as he took the mug to his teeth. The warmth felt good on his phalanges, then down his throat and over his Soul as the magic filled him.

‘Can I have some?’ Cancell called.

Sans looked down from his mug. “It’s sort of bitter. You might not like it.”

“Gimme, gimme,” Cancell demanded, grabby hands and all.

Sans glanced up at the ceiling. “All right, but I warned you.” He squatted down and helped Cancell hold the cup to his mouth. “It’s hot, so be care---”

“BLAAAAAH!” Cancell thrust the mug away and his sockets closed tight as his tongue shot out of his mouth.

Sans sighed, but smiled nonetheless as he used his sleeve to clean Cancell’s face. “I told you it was bitter.”

‘Why are you drinking that!?’ Cancell demanded.

“Caffeine, mostly. I need to be wide awake if we’re going to the castle.”

“Is that where you’re headed?” Toriel called as she came back into the living room with a tray of biscuits, raw and flat. “What’s wrong with the little one?” she noted.

“He wanted some coffee, so I let him have some,” Sans answered.

“Sans!” Toriel called as she leaned into the fire to place the tray over the flames. “He’s a baby! He should be drinking nothing but milk!” She spoke as she whipped around, hands on her hips. “What do you mean he wanted some?”

“He asked,” Sans answered again. “He can talk with his Soul to mine.”

Toriel’s eyes widen. “Really? I’ve never heard of that….”

Sans sighed. “Toriel…. could you take a seat? There’s a lot I need to tell you.”

Sans needed a bit over an hour to explain everything to Toriel, perhaps longer. At points Toriel would interrupt with pressing questions, anger and tears.

There were a lot of tears.

“I cannot believe he would do such a thing!” Toriel sobbed. “I thought he was cruel, but knowing what he did to you! He’s evil---nothing but evil! What he did to Crimson! And Little Cancell! Oh, Sans, I can’t imagine what you went through, I just can’t….” She broke down into a new torrent of sobs against Sans’ shoulder.

The tiny skeleton could only rub her back, ensure her he was doing better now that Asgore was several staircases behind/above him.

“Anyone would be better far away from that… that **creature,”** Toriel growled as she sat up, sniffing and drying her face with her apron. “Oh, if I ever see that horrid beast again, I’ll give him the same treatment he gave Crimson and then some---oh!” Toriel’s hands came to her cheeks. “You wanted to go to the castle, to see Crimson! Oh my, if that’s the case…..” Toriel got to her feet and padded into the kitchen, where she began to open drawers and paw through the contents. “I know I have a few extra ones in here…. In here, maybe? … Yes, here we are!” She hurried back into the living room and presented two small objects which appeared to be flat, polished, tan rock tied to black strings. They were sort of octagonal in shape. One had a heart that appeared to the filling up with black liquid. The other had a simple circle shape.

“Are those talismans?” Sans asked, leaning in closer to peer at them.

“Yes,” Toriel nodded with a smile. “Provision and Ring--- healing and barrier. You’ll need some way to heal and protect yourself in Winter Freezes. There are very sneaky monsters there who may try to hurt you.”

Sans took the talismans. “I don’t know if I can use them, though.”

“You can,” Toriel reassured him. “The magic frequency is slower down here. Souls have an easier time slowing their frequencies than speeding them up, so you should be attuned by now. Now, you have to say a certain charm for these to work. For Provision, you must say “A Liquid of Warmth will Heal.” Now, hold it like this,” Toriel put the Provision talisman in the metacarpals of Sans’ hand and folded his phalanges over the small stone. “Concentrate. You should feel a cool tingling in your hand. Connect with that feeling with your Soul. Now, say the charm. Don’t mutter it, say it strong and clear.”

“A… A Liquid of Warmth will Heal,” Sans spoke. He shivered when he felt warmth spilled over his skull and down his spine. Relief washed over him and he felt his HP increase over its limit by just a few points.

“Perfect!” Toriel clapped. “And it appears you even received some extra HP. That’s rare, so do not depend on it too often. Now, anyone touching you will be healed as well. Same for Ring--- anyone touching you will be protected. Oh, the charm for Ring is “A Ring of Salt will Protect”.”

“ ‘A Ring of Salt will Protect’,” Sans repeated.

“Now, look at the talisman,” Toriel pointed. “It’s completely white now, which means it’s empty of magic. It needs about thirty minutes to recharge. There’s a place in The Basement called The Sun that recharges talismans. The closer you approach The Sun, the faster your talismans will charge. After we get you ready to go and you reach Winter Freezes, the Provision talisman should be charged up. Try your best to use it as a last resort, though. Also, once you reach Winter Freezes, do not talk to anyone. It may seem rude to ignore others, but in Winter Freezes, that may just save your life. Here, let me tie these to your wrist.”

Sans held out his left wrist. “Is it really that dangerous?” he asked. “I mean, will Cancell and I be all right?”

Toriel paused in her tying. “You were going to take Cancell?” she questioned. “Sans, it’s a lengthy walk to the Castle--- at least two or three days. I may have little in baby supplies to give, but you have nothing to trade for them in Winter Freezes or Summer Heats. Cancell may be put in needless danger.”

“Toriel…” Sans started, before he felt a tug on his shirt. He glanced to his right, down at Cancell who gave him a worried look. Silent words were begging at Sans’ Soul…. Sans took a deep breath, then looked back at Toriel, his pinpoints steady. “Toriel. I am not leaving Cancell here. I can’t. We depend on each other too much. I’m his anchor and he’s mine.”

“But, Sans---”

“Toriel, please,” Sans interrupted, phalanges clutching at the chair seat. “You have no idea how… sane he keeps me.”

Toriel stared, eyes wide.

“After everything I have been through… he’s the only constant I can depend on right now. I just…,” Sans sniffed. “I just need something to hold onto.”

Toriel sighed. “All right,” she relented. “I’ll give you what I can,” she offered, before standing up.

And for the first time since meeting her again, Sans saw the deep lines on Toriel’s face, the bags under her eyes.

How long had she been in this house alone? Red visited her enough, but did she have any other friends? Had she journeyed more outside of her initial trip to the castle? Sans couldn’t blame her for keeping to herself, but at the same time, some part of her was missing now. She was still welcoming and kind to be sure, but she wasn’t as… was forward the correct word?

Queen Toriel would have tried to befriend others, make their lives easier, helped where she could.

Tired Toriel had no such energy, drive or desire to do more than what was necessary. Her spark, her enthusiasm… that was all gone now.

Another beautiful thing destroyed by Asgore’s treachery.

Sans was brought out of his thoughts by Toriel resting a bag on her chair. “There are a few things in here,” she spoke. “Before I moved into this house, this place was a sort of resting station, so there are all sorts of supplies tucked away. Someone left behind this baby bag. There are bottles, some clothes, blankets. I think even a few toys.”

“Thank you, Toriel,” Sans smiled. “I know this is probably hard for you…. I hope you can understand.”

Toriel sighed and strolled over to the fireplace to check on the biscuits. “I still believe this is foolish…. But all I can do is hope you and Cancell have a safe journey. Winter Freezes is not the only danger in The Basement.”

Sans looked to his lap as Cancell nuzzled against him. “Red told me about the odd creatures in these woods. He told me how dangerous Winter Freezes could be and the strange orderly nature of Summer Heats. Spring Blooms seems to be the only place that’s remotely safe outside The Sun and The Moon. Either way, I plan on being careful.”

“Sans… I do not speak of a place,” Toriel replied as she leaned over to take the biscuits from the fire. “I speak of a Monster.”

“A Monster? Who?” Sans asked as he picked up Cancell and followed Toriel into the kitchen.

“The Prince,” Toriel answered as she used a spatula to slide the hot biscuits from the tray then into a basket.

“You mean Canary?” Sans questioned as he moved Cancell to sit on the counter. “No, don’t touch that, it’s hot. Wait a minute.”

Cancell pouted, but remained quiet as Toriel spoke.

“So, you’ve heard of him?” the goat asked as she opened a cabinet to take out some tiny storage containers.

“Red told me about him,” Sans answered. “He’s the Prince and Red’s brother… And… I have wondered how he’s doing, what with Red….”

“Not well.”

Sans looked down at the counter, sockets pained. “As I thought.”

“He wishes to bring war to Asgore.”

And for a second, Sans thought the floor had fallen out from under him. His skull would have flown off his spine with how quick he looked back at Toriel were his head not secured by magic. “WHAT!?”

Even Cancell’s mouth dropped open. He had predicted this, but hadn’t thought any of his thoughts would become real.

“He wishes to destroy The Attic for his brother’s near death,” Toriel continued as she placed a few of the biscuits in a container, voice holding no sense urgency, as if she was telling Sans that rain was coming again after a week long downpour.

“Why didn’t you say anything before!?” Sans demanded.

Toriel didn’t answer as she walked into the living room and placed the container in the bag. “… I should find some clothes for you… And I think I have some extra toiletries.”

“Toriel!” Sans snapped, turning around to look after her.

Still no answer.

“...Toriel…,” Sans spoke, lowering his voice. “If… if they do this… it won’t be only Asgore who will meet with death.”

“But he deserves it, does he not!?” Toriel screamed as she whipped around. Tears poured from her eyes. “After everything he has put us all through, he deserves nothing short of death!”

“But a war will claim lives that _don’t_ deserve death!” Sans countered.”I would be fine if it were a dual of sorts, but I cannot stand here while a war is brewing!” He picked up Cancell and hurried into the living room. “You said you had extra toiletries. The bathroom is back here, correct? Cancell and I will clean, pack and head to the Castle right afterward.” Sans finished as he began for the bathroom.

“You cannot change Canary’s mind,” Toriel spoke, voice soft. “He will find a way to use his magic in The Attic and he will go to war.”

Sans spun around. “How can you just stand there then!? Have you even tried to convince him otherwise!?”

Toriel looked away, hands clasped and shaking.

Sans glared. “No, of course not. You said as much earlier. You don’t care if anyone else dies as long as Asgore is one of them.”

Toriel sighed. “You said so yourself, Sans--- a war claims lives undeserving of death.”

“Not if I can help it,” Sans growled and turned to hurry into the bathroom. After slamming the door, he placed Cancell on the floor and squatted to open the cabinet under the sink. “Okay… towels… soap… toothpaste… toothbrushes.”

‘Mother, what exactly are you going to tell Canary to change his mind?’ Cancell asked. ‘Surely, you’re not going to pass blame onto yourself.’

Sand didn’t answer, digging farther into the cabinet.

Cancell gawked. ‘You are, aren’t you!? You’re going to say you’re the main reason Crimson nearly died! Then what, you’re going to let Canary kill you in revenge and leave me alone!?’

Sans slid from the cabinet and sat up to look at Cancell. “No, I---”

‘What was that earlier about being each others’ anchors!? Or was that a lie!?’ Cancell screamed.

“Cancell, please---”

‘Stop being so damn stupid!’ Cancell shrieked, causing ripples in Sans’ Soul. ‘You have a child now! Will you think for a second about your actions!?’

“But---”

‘Just stop!’ Cancell yelled, sockets closed tight, fists shaking. ‘I am sick and tired of this! For just a second, stop trying to be some type of martyr! You make such a huge fuss over saving everyone--- _you’re part of everyone, you damn idiot!_ You can’t save anyone if you’re dead!’

Sans stared at Cancell’s narrowed, wet sockets, the tiny skeleton’s rib cage rising up and down as if he had used his true voice to scream.

With a gulp, Sans took a slow seat onto the floor. “I… I’m sorry… I….”

Cancell’s gaze fell to the floor, his “voice” softening. ‘If you need to tell Canary that you bare some responsibility for Crimson’s near death, then fine. I can see why you feel that way. But don’t act like you’re the one one almost killed him. You can’t be a sacrificial lamb anymore--- not when I need you! So for Error’s Sake, start acting like a wolf already!!’

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh my, that certainly escalated....
> 
> Cainophobia- Fear of novelty
> 
> Toriel's reaction really was the driving force for this chapter title. She's so tired and just done with everything that she doesn't want to make new friends (granted her cottage is in like the worst spot, she still could have moved at some point). She doesn't think anyone can change Canary's mind, she's fine with letting things just happen. Queen Toriel had her faults, but she wouldn't sit around knowing a war was brewing--- she certainly didn't the first time. 
> 
> Well, another beautiful thing ruined. 
> 
> Also, that last line is edgy as hell and that's why it's there. :3


	13. Scia

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> What a beautiful place for shadows and stares.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hm, this chapter is just barely overly 3k. I think the "Season Chapters" will probably be a bit on the shorter side. Like, there's only so much I can write about a creepy forest or cold, dark city before it drags on so long that it looses its edge, so these will probably be closer to the 3K end of the spectrum. I had a lot of writing this one though, definitely my kind of aesthetic. =3

Sans stood at the front door, dressed in black shorts and a white t-shirt. He held Cancell, basket and all, in one hand while the bag was slung on his opposite shoulder. He looked over to Toriel, who stood at the threshold of the kitchen. Even with the door open, the fire still cast heavy shadows over her tired face. She looked so much older than Sans remembered….

Sans glanced down. “Thank you for letting us stay here… and for the food… and… well, everything, really. “ He looked up and gave her a small smile.

Toriel returned the gesture, though her smile was forced, eyes pained.

Sans knew she didn’t want him taking Cancell with him and she was probably still thinking there was no way he was going to change Canary’s mind. Sans could even imagine she was hoping he didn’t manage to do so.

As long as Asgore died….

Sans grimaced at the thought. “Toriel,” he started, sockets narrowed in determination. “I’m going to stop this war from happening, but I promise you, we will make Asgore pay and you will have a front row seat.”

Toriel blinked, straightened up, surprised by Sans’ words, his conviction. After a moment, her body relaxed and her smile become softer, more genuine.

Sans nodded before turning to walk out of the door and head onto the path. He closed the door with a soft click and looked to his right, down the dirt trail, then up at the sky. The expanse was the same as yesterday--- a dim, afternoon sort of sky, the air filled with leaves and a hint of a chill.

“Well, let’s go,” Sans spoke and began down the path, bare feet padding along dirt and embedded pebbles. Trees, tall, thin and dark, lined the right side of the trail while the left side was a lime green expanse of rolling hills dotted with large boulders and coral pink flowers. Farther ahead, Sans could see the hills vanishing as the trees took hold, surrounding both sides of the path, the canopy they formed a near solid ceiling of vibrant shades of yellow ranging from gold to lemon. Orange, the color of fire and tiger fur, as well as rose and candy red, also dotted the sea of yellow, the foliage tossed back and forth in the wind. With the constant blowing of the chilled air, the foliage made a soft hushing noise, as if the trees themselves were demanding the rest of the world to be quiet.

Leaves blew from the tree limbs in a unending stream, filling the air with bright fiery flashes of color. The foliage piled on the ground, though Sans noticed the path was quite clear. How often did monsters come through here that the path stayed, overall, clear of foliage? Maybe Red had a way of clearing the path--- but… he hadn’t been here in weeks. Shouldn’t the path be covered in vegetation? Maybe the wind blew the foliage off the path and piled them on the forest floor?

…That seemed as close to a reasonable explanation as Sans could think of.

The tiny skeleton took a quick peek down at Cancell. The small toddler was nibbling on one of Toriel’s biscuits, the bread looking large in his tiny hands, crumbs piling on his blanket and sticking to his fangs and cheekbones.

Sans smiled. _So cute,_ he thought to himself. He shifted his gaze back to the path just as the forest began to boarder both sides.

The air shifted moments later, growing a little heavy, as if the wind couldn’t flow with as much ease as before, when the hills mirrored the trees. The sound of the foliage being wind-tossed was louder now that trees surrounded both sides of the path. The leaves fell with such an overwhelming and thick presence, Sans found he could only see a few feet into the forest before a near solid wall of yellow obstructed his vision. Light, however, still trickled through the canopy, as well as the wall of leaves, and made flashes that mimicked stars sparkling in the night sky or came down as streams of flickering rays.

Despite the glimmers of light, Sans felt as if he were walking down a shrinking hallway, the walls closing in around him, the ceiling lowering. The wind taking on a heavier and more oppressive presence was not helping the sense of being closed in that his mind and Soul were experiencing. He felt as if the air flow was unnatural, as if the wind itself did not want to be here, but something, something stronger than the wind , something with such tremendous power and residence, was squeezing and forcing the air to flow between the wall of trees.

Why something would do this, Sans didn’t know at first, until he realized again that he couldn’t see anything too far into the forest for all the falling foliage.

Something forced the wind through these trees to make the leaves fall…so Something could hide….

Sans gulped at the thought, then coughed, the oppressive wind taking away his breath. He was forced to step only a few feet off the path and sit down against a tree so he could take a few deep breathes. He rubbed his sockets with the metacarpals of his hands.

‘Mother, have a biscuit,’ Cancell suggested. ‘That may ease your tension.’

And Cancell wiggled out of the blanket and sat up. He held up a biscuit to his mother.

Sans smiled and took the rounded piece of layered bread. “Thank you, dear.”

Cancell nodded, then leaned out of his basket, hands resting on the edge of the woven carrier. His glowing pinpoints surveyed the area from his deep, wide sockets. ‘…It’s pretty….’ he noted. ‘But… something is off. The air is… heavy.’ Cancell looked up at Sans. ‘Is that why you stopped?’

Sans nodded before swallowing a bit of biscuit. He had to admit, the snack was good and he was already feeling better. “I think it’s how the air is flowing through these trees. It’s almost like something is forcing it to flow through here constantly, sort of like a valley.”

‘Strange,’ Cancell spoke as he edged around the top of his basket, peering into the yellow wall of leaves.

“Love, your scarf is a little loose,” Sans noticed as he finished his biscuit. “Here, let me tie it a little tighter.” As Sans tighten the red scarf around Cancell’s vertebrae, he didn’t fail to notice his child’s deep, glowering stare. “What is it?”

‘Something it out there,’ Cancell growled. ‘I can feel it… Like shivers running down my spine.’

Sans turned to peer into the wall of leaves. He didn’t see anything, but at the same time, he felt something peering back at him. He couldn’t feel any sort of Intent from the returning stare, which meant he couldn’t tell what that Something wanted to do to him or his child.

 _Come to think of it, I didn’t feel any Intent from that shadow I saw yesterday,_ Sans realized. _Either these things don’t have Souls the same way we do, or they can hide their Intent. Neither situation is ideal._

“Get down,” Sans whispered to Cancell. “Back in your basket, we’re leaving.”

Cancell gave the distant entity a long stare before lowering himself back into the basket. Though he laid down, Cancell didn’t put the blanket back over him. He didn’t want anything getting in the way of his magic. Of course, he didn’t know if his magic would work down here just because his Soul was different, and on top of that, all he could do was pick up small items and throw them, but if there was a chance to protect his mother, he didn’t want anything getting in the way of that.

Sans only had plans to get as far away as he could from Something. He stood up, picked up the basket and the bag and hurried back to the path. He kept a faster pace this time, but he couldn’t shake the sensation of being watched. How far could Something see him before he was out of sight? Was Something able to see Sans through the wall of foliage just as easy as he could see through a window? Would Something follow them? Were they already marked for death because Something had found them? Sans didn’t want to know any of these answers first hand. He rounded a bend and came to an abrupt stop.

In front of him was a small grouping of stone and straw cottages nestled in front of or opposite a solid wall of towering trees. These trees were far thicker in size than the ones with fiery leaves and grew so close together that they tossed a looming shadow of indigo over the cottages. There was not a speck of light between their thick trunks. These trees also didn’t appear to have foliage at all. Instead, these mammoths of wood had bare branches, all tangled into and around each other, like clawed hands fighting for scraps of meat.

As Sans edged his way into the tiny settlement (he felt the place was far too small to be considered a town or even a village), he noticed a few monsters (whose species he didn’t recognize) tending to their gardens in front of their homes.

 _Monsters live out here? Did Red mention that?_ Sans questioned as he continued down the path that rested in front of the houses’ yards. He tightened the grasp on the basket when he felt Cancell moving around to sit up and peer out.

‘Mother….’ he whispered.

“I noticed,” Sans whispered back as he glanced at the monsters on either side of the path.

They only stared.

None of them moved no matter what position they were in--- bending over, sweeping, sitting on a roof to be re-thatched, their situation no longer mattered to them once they saw Sans and Cancell. They froze, oval shaped eyes wide, but steady, long pointed ears twitching to a stop as their bodies seemed to seize up.

Sans couldn’t feel any Intent from these monsters either, but the fact none of them were approaching him, that they all just stood frozen, gave them the appearance of having no aim of attacking.

They just stared.

Did they do this whenever Red walked by? They must have seen the skeleton multiple times by now. Maybe they were wondering why no one was escorting Sans? But if that were the case, wouldn’t they ask if he needed help?

No, they were staring for a different reason….

Did they think he was the Something in the wall of leaves? That must be why their houses were built in front of these thicker, dead trees. No wall of foliage for Something to peer from.

They couldn’t think a tiny skeleton and his baby were any sort of threat, could they? They must have seen other monsters walking by with children and they must know they all came from The Attic. Maybe they just didn’t like Attic Monsters, but… their faces held no malice or hatred.

Just… wide… stares…

As if one were in a museum where the paintings’ eyes seemed to follow one as one moved about the room….

Nothing could compare to living under the alienating eye of Asgore, but this… this was earning an excruciating second place. Sans had never felt so.. alien. These monsters stared at him as if he was a life form from another planet. If they wanted him to feel excluded and disapproved of, their peering, unblinking eyes had done just that.

However, Sans could feel no hostility from these monsters--- not from their Souls, not from their actions, not from their near blank faces. He didn’t think they wanted him to feel alienated... more so, aware of the fact that they were aware he was here, an outsider in a place that had so many hidden dangers….

He felt as if this was their way of warning him of… something.

Of Something?

Sans gulped as the tiny grouping of homes thinned out, giving away to the walls of trees and heavy air now laced with unease.

“Okay,” Sans took a deep breath. “That… that happened.”

‘Maybe they don’t like Monsters from The Attic,’ Cancell offered.

“But they didn’t look anger,” Sans countered. “Just…well, they didn’t look anything. It was like being stared at from the woods earlier. Maybe they’re the same type of Monster as the thing in the woods.”

‘Perhaps. I realize, though, that I haven’t given my thought much attention until now,’ Cancell started. ‘Some of The Basement may view us from The Attic in a negative light, as if we were the lucky ones until we were tossed down here, too. If not that, our Souls and Magic are different, at least for a time. They may cause some sort of division between the two groups. However, there is more pressing matter: I did not recognize that species of Monster.’

“They sort of reminded me of those… what are they called?” Sans snapped his phalanges together, trying to get his memories in order. “Ah, come on, they were in one of the story books I used to read to Papyrus… Elves? Yes, they sort of looked like Elves, but smaller…. Halflings, maybe? Something like that,” Sans spoke. “I wonder if being even farther underground caused some sort of mutation. There may be all sorts of new Monsters down here.”

“Well, I do hope they’re friendlier,” Cancell murmured as he shifted around the basket to look around. At one point, he leaned so far out of the basket, he almost fell out.

“Cancell!” Sans cried, grabbing him by scarf wrapped around his vertebrae. “Be careful!”

‘I’m sorry!’ Cancell cried. ‘I thought I saw something!’ He pointed to the woods. ‘Look, it’s still there!’

Sans froze and turned to his right to look into the woods.

A tall, black shadow stood far off the path.

At first, Sans thought the figure was a tree, but the shape was much darker than the slate gray of the trunks.

No, something more than a tree was standing there, without question.

Sans glared at the shadow, baring his tiny fangs. He grasped the Ring Talisman at his wrist and felt Cancell grab onto his shirt so he would be protected as well if Sans triggered the Talisman.

Sans waited for the shadow to make a move, not wanted to waste the Talisman’s magic.

The shadow didn’t move.

In fact, the tall shape stayed frozen in place as the Halflings (?) had done earlier and though the mass had no visible face, Sans could feel this entity also staring at him, though the skeleton wasn’t sure if the shadow stared in curiosity or malice.

Again, Sans felt no Intent from this being. Maybe these things really didn’t have Souls…. For a moment, Sans thought about opening his Soul up just a little to the shadow, but if there was no Soul to connect to, or there was something other than a Soul, well, Sans had no way of knowing what the result would be.

Instead, he decided to stay on the defensive, ready to protect himself and his child if need be. All he needed to do was wait until the shadow moved….

The shadow, however, never moved.

The wall of leaves obscured the entity from Sans’ sight for a few seconds and when the wall shifted again, the shadow was gone, vanished without a single sound.

The two skeletons glanced around, but found no hint of the shadow.

“What are those things?” Sans whispered.

‘I’m afraid your guess is as good as mine, Mother,’ Cancell answered.

“I saw another of those shadows last night, though it looked more like a dog,” Sans explained as he took careful steps down the path, pinpoints shifting from side to side. “Red didn’t tell me there were new types of monsters down here, but I can’t fathom what else they could be. They must be a new species.”

‘Maybe….’ Cancell murmured as he edged around his basket while keeping a distant gaze. ‘They don’t seem to mean any harm.’

“So far,” Sans replied before setting his sights ahead. In the distance, he could see the tops of buildings under a darkening sky. He could only conclude that he was seeing the outskirts of Winter Freezes. In his mind, he berated the place for already looking just as hostile as everyone kept telling him the area was without him even having to step foot inside first.

Even more unnerving was the forest of Autumn Falls still stretched on before Sans like a yellow centipede scuttling across the ground.

With so much unknown resting between him and the city, Sans clenched the Ring Talisman tighter in his grasp.     

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sciaphobia- the fear of shadows (can also be spelled Sciophobia)
> 
> No updates next week. At this point the backlog is empty, so I have to write up some more chapters. Take the time to read one of my other stories or chat with me on my tumblr. See ya in a week and thank you for your patience! ^_^


	14. Harpaxo

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> But the city refused to change.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello everyone! My apologizes for the wait. I finished up the backlog for the story, but it wore me out, so I took another week off to relax my head space. Now I'm ready to wrap this thing up! With this chapter posted, we have ten chapters left! So, let's get into it!

“Wow…” Sans whispered as he walked through the archway serving as the entrance to Winter Freezes. The city looked to be under a perpetual stormy sky of indigo and slate gray clouds. The thick overcast tossed the city into a navy blue shadow, from the imposing buildings of steel and concrete to the cracked sidewalk that held puddles shimmering in some unseen light.

In front of Sans was a fountain, covered in graffiti, the angelic-like beings spraying water while missing limbs and holding calm faces. A jet of water overshot the basin of the fountain, creating an ever expanding puddle towards the curving sidewalk.

Talismans clutched in one hand, basket handle in the other, Sans took a deep breath and started down the left hand side sidewalk, curving a few feet away and around the fountain, and then deeper into the valley of sprawling buildings.

His plan was simple: Keep walking. Don’t talk to anyone. Don’t stop anywhere. Keep walking.

“Hey, sweetheart, ditch the kid. Come on in.”

Keep walking.

“Talismans for cheap! Special buy one get one free! How ‘bout it, little guy?”

No, you have the only Talismans you need. Keep waling.

“You piece of shit! You ripped me off!”

“Fuck ya, sayin’ I ripped ya off! Where’s ya proof!”

Keep walking.

“Where are ya even gonna go, ya dumb bastard!? Get back in here, ya piece of trash”

“Ah… uh… O-okay.”

No, don’t stop. Keep walking.

“He took my purse!”

“Well, tough luck, dumb bitch! Better take someone’s!”

Keep walking. Keep walking.

“Ah… fuck… Just like that…”

“Oooh, that’s nice.”

Sans grimaced. _In an alley? That’s just filthy. At least get a room._

“Mother, what---?”

“When you’re older, dear!” Sans growled through clenched teeth.

“Buddy, buddy!”

Sans almost fell over when a sudden weight landed on his shoulders. A look to his right revealed a Bull Monster grinning down at him, eyes half-closed.

“Buddy, helps’ma, pleessse. Tack me ‘ome, bud!”

 _Ah, he’s drunk,_ Sans realized as he switched hands so Cancell was on his left. At the same time, the bull staggered forward, pulling Sans down the sidewalk.

“Dissh way, right, buddy?” the bull wobbled, pointing a swinging hand forward.

“Uh, hold on, um, buddy,” Sans gave a weak smile. “Cancell, can you help me lift his arm--- I don’t want to put you down.”

Cancell nodded and his sockets went black as he surrounded the bull’s massive arm with his magic and, with a shove from Sans, moved the limb to his muscled side.

“Which way, buddy?” the bull smiled, body rocking back and forth. “Know wut? Right ‘ere’s fine.”

And the bull toppled over onto his back, right onto the street with a thunderous crash, tiny legs still on the sidewalk.

Sans staggered backward before looking around for, well… anyone.

Was anyone going to help him up?

…No one came.

Monsters continued on their way, arguing and cursing at each other. Carts being pulled up and down the street just maneuvered around the sleeping bull. Sans, however, felt a little sorry for the monster, despite the smile he wore on his snoring face. The skeleton removed a biscuit from the container and rested the snack in the bull’s hands, making sure to close his fingers around the treat so no one would try to steal the piece of bread from him.

After checking the bull for any obvious injuries, the skeleton continued down the sidewalk.

‘It’s strange that leaving him like that is considered normal here, isn’t it?” Cancell asked, his crimson pinpoints glowing bright from their abyss.

“Maybe he’s a well-known drunk,” Sans answered. “Though, I have a feeling helping others isn’t in anyone’s best interest here…,” the skeleton noted as he looked around the darken cityscape. He saw more than a few monsters sleeping on benches and against buildings, standing around fires in back alleys. He wondered if they were homeless because they lacked money or the buildings weren’t safe--- most of them had broken windows, were missing doors and were layered in graffiti, some artistic, some blatant about the state of the building or the city itself. Sans couldn’t fathom why the Prince wasn’t trying to fix this place. He recalled Red saying Canary preferred order--- maybe the trash and graffiti and broken… everything was too much for him to figure out how to fix.

 _Maybe if I offered my services as an adviser, that will be enough to deter a war,_ Sans thought. _If I knew exactly why this place was such a mess, I could find a solution. Could be anything from lack of funds or education to some sort of failed rebellion. …No, I’m pretty sure Red would have mentioned a coup of any kind. But then again, maybe there was one a long time ago… Hm…._

‘Mother, what are you doing?’ Cancell called, lidded sockets staring.

Sans blinked. “Oh, I was just thinking.”

‘About?’

Sans gave a nervous smile. “…How to help the monsters here…?”

Cancell groaned as he rolled his pinpoints. ‘Do you even remember where we’re going?’

“To see Canary and Red. To stop a war! I haven’t forgotten, I just….” Sans looked around the dilapidated cityscape--- the potholed streets, the boarded up apartments, the empty storefronts. “I was an adviser for years. I’m supposed to prevent things like this.”

‘Maybe they like things this way,’ Cancell offered. ‘I mean, look, there’s someone selling Talismans,’ he pointed to a wooden stand where some sort of Bird Monster sung out.

“One Tali, Two Tali, Three Tali, Four! Best Tali, best Tali, best evermore!”

Sans gave a quick glance at the Talismans hanging from the wooden display. They were in odd shapes with crude paint jobs. Sans’ lids lowered as he hurried down the sidewalk. “Those are obviously fake.”

‘Well, yes,’ Cancel agreed. ‘But, he is making some form of money, which makes him happy and that is all that matters, correct?’

“It’s not right to scam people, Cancell.”

‘Well, then, simply don’t fall for the scam,’ Cancell offered.

Sans sighed while rubbing his face. “All right, you have a point, but some monsters aren’t… they don’t… they….”

“They’re stupid.”

“No,” Sans replied without missing a beat. “Some of them just… take everything at face value. They don’t question things because they don’t think anyone would be dishonest to them.”

‘Oh. So, they’re naive.’

“Yes,” Sans smiled.

‘Well… naivety is its own brand of stupidity.’

Sans’ face fell at Cancell’s words. ‘I think I rather deal with a violent child than a condescending one at this point. Surely it involves less mental obstacles…’ “Cancell, please don’t make fun of naive people.”

‘What? Am I wrong? Explain how I’m wrong.’

“They just--- look, we will discuss this later,” Sans frowned with a slight glare. “Right now, we need to work on getting to the other side of the city.”

Cancell looked out of his basket towards the towering buildings still looming in front of them. ‘… I don’t think we’re going to make it by…whenever night falls here.’

Sans glanced upward. “…The sky does look rather stormy. I wonder if they experience rain… I hope that’s rain the sidewalk is wet with….”

Both Skeletons gave hasty looks to the darken pavement before falling into an uneasy silence. The sounds of the shadowy city engulfed them--- glass being broken, curses, sales of “authentic” merchandise, carts creaking down the street, the spraying of graffiti artists, a distance scream followed by running. A trash can fell over, heels clicked past, someone took a beating down a dark alley.

Sans had to keep walking. For his safety, for his child, he had to keep walking--- no matter what he heard, he had to keep walking.

“What a cute kid.”

Sans stopped short. He looked to his left and saw a monster leaning against a building. He wore a rather nice midnight black suit and matching top hat pulled down low and covering his face in shadow, revealing only a cherry red eye that shined with an almost blinding glow.

Again, Sans couldn’t decipher the Intent of this monster, but even with his face covered, Sans could tell he was a monster whose species he didn’t recognize. This monster was quite thin, as if he were made of only thin bones and Sans could tell that the pitch blackness of his face wasn’t just from the hat’s shadow.

Still Sans gave a smile. “Thank you very much.”

The monster pushed off the wall and seemed to glide over to the two. He leaned forward to peer at Cancell who gave a slight glare back.

“I’ve never seen a skeleton kid like this before, like, one with horns,” the monster noted. “Interestin’…”

“Um, right,” Sans spoke, taking a step back. “Well, I’ll have to be on my way.”

“Oh,” the monster stood up straight. “My apologizes. Name’s Swap,” he held out a hand.

“Oh. I’m Sans,” Sans looked down to take the offer only to pause.

This monster’s hand was jet black in color and his claws were the longest Sans had ever seen.

“Oh, right,” Swap seemed to smile from under the shadow of his hat. “You’re from The Attic, right? Never seen claws this long, right?”

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to stare,” Sans apologized.

“It’s all right,” Swap continued to smile. “Ain’t never seen a monster quite like me, right? I’m a Jikininki. Think… like a zombie, but way smarter. Oh, but I only have a taste for ghosts---but that’s another story, right? And you’re a Skeleton, Font, right? Ya got those letters in ya sockets,” Swap pointed out. “Don’t see too many Fonts. Lots of Spectrals, though, up at The Moon and Sun. That where ya headed?”

“To The Moon, yes,” Sans answered. “So, I must be going.” He turned away to walk only for Swap to glide in front of him.   
”Hey, hold on,” Swap smiled, eye glowing. “Ya ain’t gonna make it outta here by night. Got anything to trade for a room?”

“Oh…” Sans looked to his bag. “I… don’t think so.”

“Then let me help ya out!” Swap’s smile grew as he dug into his pocket. “Look at this! Genuine Talisman straight from The Sun.” He held up the small, flat piece of stone, allowing Sans to lean in to take a closer look.

“Looks a lot more authentic than the ones I’ve seen here,” Sans admitted. “What’s the little lines on it mean?”

“Needle! A offensive Talisman,” Swap answered. “Perfect for those late nights when everyone wants a piece of ya!”

Sans leaned back, tapping his chin. “So, let’s say this is a real Talisman and I was interested. The only Talismans I have are Replenish and Ring.”

“Ah, I don’t want your Talismans,” Swap waved off, still smiled. “I was interested in somethin’ else.”

Sans cocked a brow bone. “I don’t have anything else.”

“Oh, but don’t you?” Swap gave a slick grin. He pointed at Cancell.

Sans stared, then blinked. “…What?”

“The kid,” Swap began, voice level. “Lots of monsters around here would trade a lot for a kid as unique lookin’ as yours.”

 **“ARE YOU SICK!?”** Sans exploded. **“HE’S A CHILD, NOT A PIECE OF MEAT!!”**

Swap took a step back. “Hey, now, come on, just---”

 **“FUCK YOU! GET OUTTA MY WAY!!”** Sans screamed and forced his way past the monster with a quick elbow to his gut. He stomped down the sidewalk, leaving behind a doubled over, coughing, cursing monster.

Sans had never been as mad as he was at this moment. Asgore had done some horrible, disgusting, detestable things, but, as far as Sans knew, he had never treated anyone like an object to be traded for something else. How could anyone look at another sentient creature and reduce them to a mere commodity? How could anyone look at a child and see them as, as stock!? Chattel! Property! A thing!

The whole affair left such a bad taste in Sans’ mouth that he had to spit a few times.

That wasn’t enough though--- his Soul was on fire, engulfed with a righteous rage he had never felt before.

_I should have ripped that Talisman away from him! I even know the chant from when Red used his against Asgore! A Needle of Iron will Pierce--- that was it! I could have gotten him a few good times in his ass! Gods Above and Below! No wonder Canary hasn’t fixed this place! Any city that is okay with trading children is a lost cause!_

‘Mother.’

Sans stopped at the sound of Cancell’s call. He looked down at the tiny skeleton.

‘Perhaps we should find a room,’ Cancell suggested. ‘I know it’s a bit early, but… well, that look on your face may attract the wrong type of attention.’

Sans stared, then sighed, calming his racing thoughts and pulsing Soul. “I’m fine, love. You are correct, though. Someone might think I’m looking at them the ‘wrong way.’ I’m just so… I just want to hit something,” Sans pulled his hand into a fist for a few seconds. With a breath, he relaxed his hand. “We need to keep going as far as we can though--- the less time we have to spend in this place, the better. We’ll start looking for a place when… when I figure out when it gets dark here,” Sans gave a puzzled look to the sky. “It looked like this even before we got here. Maybe we should go ahead and try to find a place. We can at least observe the sky for a bit to figure out the time if no one at a hotel can tell us.”

‘...But, what are going to trade for a room?’ Cancell asked.

Sans sighed. “We might have to give up one of our Talismans. We still have some biscuits, maybe that will work?” He rubbed his socket. “Let’s just find a place first. Lie down in your basket. I don’t want to attract any of that kind of attention again.”

Cancell nodded and dug himself under his blanket.

With another sigh, Sans began down the sidewalk, looking for any place that resembled an inn or a hotel, but with so many closed buildings,he wasn’t sure he’d find anything.

‘As if anyone would want to come here for a vacation,’ Sans thought. ‘Red, how did you walk through this place on a daily basis?’ His Soul ached for some form of comfort and safety.

Hours would pass before Sans found a tiny hostel, its sign at the front of a dark alley. The hostel was almost invisible in the darkening lot, painted an inky black--- perhaps to hide from monsters like Swap.

Inside was cozy, with a tiny foyer with a burgundy carpet and cleaned wooden walls and floors in the back. The area with beds wasn’t too crowded, the showers were clean and the food was decent. The monsters, a mix of (un)recognized species were nice to Sans, much to his surprise. They seemed to be doing what they could to keep Winter Freezes somewhat livable, but that was a hard task when most of the populace liked the way things were--- so much so, that The Moon really had given up on trying to fix things.

 _So, I was right,_ Sans thought. _They tried, but… well, you can’t help those who refuse to be helped.’ He wasn’t surprised some monsters had decided to move out all together._

However, Sans felt his ‘adviser flame’ reignite. Someone was trying to do something. Maybe if he told Canary that much, the Prince would reconsider….

‘Go to sleep, Mother,’ Cancell called from his basket.

Sans blinked again and found himself in bed, under the sheets, Cancell beside him. Again, he had gone so deep into planning mode, everything else had fallen away for a few moments. He blushed. “Sorry about that, love.”

Cancell gave an annoyed glare back.

“What?” Sans questioned. “I’m going to sleep.”

‘You gave away our biscuits.’

Sans stared, then rolled his pinpoints. “You’re still upset about that? We have enough for breakfast. I just wanted to pay everyone here for the hospitality. You know, I wonder if I can convince Toriel to cook for them. I bet she would love to help them.”

‘...Those were **our** biscuits,’ Cancell pouted and rolled over as he laid down.

Sans gave a small smile. “When Red is better, we’ll go back to Tori’s and get more, all right?”

‘...Promise?’

“Promise,” Sans leaned over and kissed Cancell’s cheekbone. “Good night. I love you.”

‘.…i love you, too.’

Sans smiled and slipped farther under the sheets. He slept a bit uneasy, not feeling as safe as he did at Toriel’s house, but, nonetheless, he felt rested when he awoke the next morning. He rolled over to find Cancell curled up next to him. “Aw,” Sans sat up. “Did you fall out of your… Oh….”

Cancell had had another… well, “growth spurt” was all Sans could call Cancell’s body “growing” into his mind. He was no longer a toddler, but a young child, perhaps seven or eight?

He must have gotten crowded in his basket, gotten himself out and lain down next to Sans to go back to sleep.

“Love, wake up,” Sans called, shaking Cancell by the shoulder joint. “Come now, you’ve had another growth spurt. I have to get you out of these tiny clothes. And maybe change your diaper?”

“I’m ten years old. I don’t need a diaper,” Cancell mumbled from under the sheets.

“Well, if you’re going to be like that, you can change yourself,” Sans spoke as he slipped out of bed.

“Noooo!” Cancell whined, holding out tiny hands. “Pick me up!”

Sans put his hands on his hipbones, but couldn’t reset’s Cancell’s cry. He leaned over and pulled Cancell out of bed and into his arms.

Cancell nuzzled into Sans’ vertebrae, a look of contentment on his face that made his mother smile.

“You’ve gotten so big,” Sans noted. “And it sounds like you have better control over your tongue.”

“I think I do.” ‘But I like talking to you like this.’

“That’s fine,” Sans reassured his child, still smiling as he reached down for the bag. “Well, let’s get cleaned up and head out. Still two more places to go until we get to The Sun at least.”

Cancell nodded and he and Sans took turns taking a bath. Sans found some clothes that still fit Cancell and, after noting that Cancell had used the bathroom by himself (something the young Skeleton was very proud of), he was able to give the diapers to other mothers, thus, making more room in his bag.

After breakfast, which was offered by the hostel (which saved the two skeletons some biscuits for later), Sans took a wobbling Cancell outside to the sidewalk. Cancell insisted on holding ‘his basket.’ Sans agreed as long as Cancell stayed in front of him. To make sure Cancell didn’t run off if he got excited by something, Sans took hold of his scarf, another keepsake his son didn’t want to let go off.

Sans thought Papyrus would have been delighted.

As the two continued down the street under a sky that was a brighter shade of gray, a few figures were coming into view.

Sans, much to his displeasure, recognized one.

“Ah, come one guys,” Swap’s shaky voice filtered between two hulking monsters--- boars perhaps? “There’s no need for violence, right?”

“Right, right,” a boar grumbled. “No violence. So how ‘bout ya give us tha Talismans ya got.”

“Yeah, yeah, we know ya go real ones!” the skinny, but towering boar spoke, voice lighter than his rounder cohort . “So, give us ‘em before me make ya head go squish!”

“Hold on, hold on!” Swap pleaded, hands up and waving. “I mean, what makes ya think I even have any, right?”

A fist slammed into a wall, making Swap (and Sans) jump. The boar was growling. “Don’t fuck with us, ya corpse fucker!”

“I eat ghosts, ya shit eater!” Swap countered, baring fangs.

A large hand grabbed Swap by the chest, picked him up clear off his feet and slammed him into the wall. “Oh, I’ll show ya who eats shit ‘round here, corpse fucker!” the boar bellowed as he pulled back his gigantic fist. He went to swing, but found he couldn’t. He glanced behind him and found his arm being held back by a menacing shadow in the shape of a clawed hand. “Th-the hell is this!?” the boar roared.

“Hey,” called a small voice.

The boar looked up the street---at Cancell.

Cancall’s magic was circling his feet in sharpen waves, the shadowed arm extending from the circle.

Sans could only stare. He hadn’t expected Cancell to use his magic and he had he never seen magic just swirl around a monster’s feet in a sort of protective circle. The hand seemed to be a physical manifestation of his basic magic--- except now, he could hold things down just as easy as picking things up.

“Um, Ca… Cancell, dear,” Sans staggered, still in a bit of shock. “Don’t throw him, okay?”

“I won’t, Mother,” Cancell spoke, voice even. “Just going to do a bit of a Smash n’ Grab.”

“Smash and Grab?” Sans questioned.

Cancel smirked as he formed another hand that balled into a fist. The fist whipped through the air and slammed into the boar’s face, knocking out teeth, half a tusk, blood and saliva.

The boar cried out and staggered backward as his hands came to his bleeding mouth. “Ma thusth!” he wailed. “Ma thusth!” Tears careened down his faze as he scurried away, screaming. “MA THWEETH! MA THUSTH!”

“Ho-hold on, Clarence!” his smaller friend called as he rushed after him. “Clarence!”

Cancell smirked as his work. “I guess that was technically a ‘Grab n’ Smash’. A Smash n’ Grab is smashing a store window and grabbing the items inside the display,” he explained as he pulled the shadowed hands back into the circle that vanished a few seconds later.

“How do you know that?” Sans asked.

Cancell tapped his chin. “I think it’s just a thing I know because of how my magic is ‘themed’?”

“Hey!” came a cheery voice. Swap was scampering up to the two only to stop cold when Cancell held out his tiny hand. Swap’s visible eye stared. “Wh-what?”

“I want payment for saving you,” Cancell spoke.

“WHAT!?” Swap cried, taking a step back, hand coming to his chest as if he had suffered a personal offense. “But, I mean, ya were just doing that outta the kindness of yer Soul, right!?”

“Oh please,” Cancell’s sockets lidded. “I’ve been here one day and can tell no one does anything out of the kindness of their Soul. Now pay up before I go heal those boars, tell them I only attacked them because you also owed me, but then let them know that they’re free to go back and pick up the scarps. That Needle Talisman should do just fine.”

“But _I_ need it!” Swap countered. “By the looks of it, ya don’t even need Talismans now, right!?”

“But my mother does,’ Cancell spoke. “So, Needle Talisman. **Now.** Or… I can take something else.”

“But I traded my Ring Talisman last night for food!” Swap panicked. “Needle’s all I got--- I don’t---” His eye widen, frown sunk. “…have anything else.”

“Oh, but don’t you?” Cancell smirked, lowering his hand. “If you don’t want to trade your Talisman, then you can trade your time. My mother and I are headed to The Moon. The faster we get there, the better. You’ve lived here all your life, correct? You would know the quickest routes, helping us avoid places of trouble, showing us places to rest and the like. Or…” Cancell’s smirk grew. “Perhaps I should come back for something later--- like those boars did. I can’t say I’ll be as slow as they were to attack, though,” Cancell pinpoints began to glow. “So, help now or I’ll just come back later and make you give me anything I want.”

Swap gulped, single eye glaring, fangs bared. “What makes ya think I’m scared of ya!? I could Needle ya both right now!”

“Except you won’t,” Cancell replied. “Or, more so, you cannot.”

Swap growled. “Why the hell can’t I, brat!?”

“Because you need to say a chant to activate your magic,” Cancell answered. A ring of black then whipped up around him again. **“I don’t.”**

Again, Swap gulped and glanced at Sans. “He’s your kid, right!? Make him stop!”

“I don’t know, I think it’s a good deal,” Sans replied. “We could have just walked by after all and those boars could have really done some serious damage, maybe even killed you. Unless you want to find out exactly what they’ll do to you, I suggest you spare us just a few days--- Or,” Sans gave a smirk of his own. “That Needle Talisman, if you want us gone right now.”

“But I can’t--- URGH! _Shimatta!!”_ Swap appeared to curse. _“Amaterasu Omikami, watashi wa kore ni ataisure tame ni o okoatte imasu…?”_ he pouted. “Fine, fine, I’ll take ya as far as the gate to Summer Heats, but that’s it! It’s pretty much a straight shot from there, so ya won’t need me by then anyway, right!?”

“Hm, we’ll see,” Cancell nodded. “Well, lead the way, good sir.”

“How the fuck did I get roped up into this shit…?” Swap muttered as he turned around, coat fluttering behind him. “I shoulda just ran off.”

“I assure you, you wouldn’t have gotten far,” Cancell spoke from Swap’s right, making the taller monster jump and grab at his chest.

The shadowed monster turned back to see Sans pacing behind them. “The fuck is this kid? He ain’t a monster, right?”

Sans smiled. “Why, of course he is. What else could he possibly be?”

“I don’t know, a demon!?” Sans offered, bewildered.

“Oh my,” Cancell giggled. “I like to think some demons would be as nice. But, I imagine some of them would fail to see your worth, even as a guide. Had I been one of those demons….”

Swap stared. “ ...Yeah?”

Cancell smiled, sockets lidded as his pinpoints glowed. “Had I been one of those demons, I wouldn’t have bothered asking for your Talisman. I would have just taken it. The moment you called out to us, I would have killed you right where you stood.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, originally, Swap wasn't going to tag along, but I sort of liked his character, horrible as he is, and I thought he'd make an interesting contrasting to Sans' cleaner conscious. He was also going to be a rat monster, but I thought that was too stereotypical, so I went looking for monsters that made deals and stumbled across Jikininki, spirits of greedy people who are cursed after death to eat corpses. Obviously, I took some artistic license with it, making them shadowy creatures that eat ghosts. Maybe some of them do eat corpses though, hence the insult "corpse fucker." Jikininki are of Japanese Buddhism, which is why Swap speaks Japanese when he's flustered (roughly translates to "Damn it! Great Goddess Amatarasu, what have I done to deserve this?") I would have just copypasta the Japanese kanji, but I wasn't sure if it would show up AO3 (it didn't save my font size change I wanted to use to indicate cancell whispering after all), so I just went with writing it out. Plus, you could "hear" it along with Sans and Cancell and also be curious about what he said. =3
> 
> "Swap" is also his nickname, not only because of his... "job" but also because it's a shorten form of his real name ;3
> 
> Harpaxo is the fear of being robbed. Though just about everyone here doesn't seem too afraid of being robbed or much of anything really.


	15. Proso

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A sleepy time while things might not have been real....

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was a strange chapter because of the way Spring Blooms is (though I do like how I described it). It turned out to be a good time to develop Swap though. He turned out to be a bit more complex than I thought.

“..Is this it?”

“Yep.”

“...Where is everyone?”

“Well, let’s see,” Swap dug into the pocket of his dress pants and pulled out a rather nice silver pocket watch. “Noon-ish, so… probably still asleep.”

“Still?” Sans questioned. “Wait, are you able to keep time down here?”

“Eh,” Swap shrugged, putting the watch back in his pocket.

Cancell stepped closer. “You had that watch the whole time? Can you not trade that for something?”

Swap’s visible eye widen before he looked away. “…Nah. Not this.”

Cancell gave a curious gaze. “I see….”

Sans stepped farther into the square of Spring Blooms. The air was warm, the sky clear with the ghosts of clouds. A calm wind blew stray petals onto the sunlit pavements and buildings--- all of which looked unfinished.

Though the atmosphere was far more friendlier and open, the town of Spring Blooms looked abandoned, as if, during construction, something had happened and everyone had to leave in a hurry and never came back. Segments of the ground were still divided up by planks of wood awaiting cement that would never be poured and form a sidewalk. The wooden skeletons of half-finished buildings populated the town, some of which appeared to have at least the first floor done. However, scaffolding still remained on the buildings, reaching up to second floors that were just wooden mimics of a finished project.

Carts full of produce, most of which was beginning to rot, were unattended. Shops were darken, doors wore ‘closed’ signs like necklaces and posted schedules were scratched out with marker.

There wasn’t a Soul around, through the place didn’t feel bereft of life. Everyone was just inside, sleeping.

At noon.

“What happened here?” Sans asked as the trio continued down the street. Though unpaved, the dirt road was easier to navigate than the beginnings of the sidewalks, which were full of shallow holes and raised sticks.

“It’s the air,”Swap answered. “It’s… too warm, too comforting. Makes ya want to stop working. And that’s what happened. Everyone just stopped working. S’why stuff is half-finished.”

“That’s… actually sort of terrifying,” Sans realized. “I mean, there’s something in the air that is essentially affecting these monsters physically and mentally. There needs to be a study of the air here! Of the long term effects! These monsters could be suffering and not even know it!”

“Psh,” Swap snickered. “Ain’t nobody gonna do stuff like that. As long as bodies ain’t piling up, The Moon don’t really care, right?”

Sans looked down at the dirt beneath his bare feet. “Is this another place Canary just gave up on?”

Swap gave a quick glance. “What?”

“I met some monsters last night,” Sans started. He didn’t want to say where, not wanting to give Swap any clue on finding them. He still couldn’t trust this monster. “They were… tossing around ideas about how someone could make Winter Freezes better and they mentioned that Canary had given up because you can’t help those who don’t want help,”

“Ah,” Swap nodded. “Yeah, that sounds ‘bout right. I mean, yeah, there’s freedom in taking what you want, right? There’s freedom in getting up when you want, too, right?” The shadowy monster stopped with a smirk and gave a quick glance around the fragmentary city. “But, the Prince did try to get a form of order for Winter. Hell, he even tried to cut us some slack---said we could leave the graffiti--- he just wanted the place cleaned up. Wanted everyone to get a skill and trade for whatever, ‘stead of stealin’, right? But some of us… we ain’t built for that kinda life,” Swap paused to start walking again. “So, he moved on and tried to set up Spring Blooms as a sort of vacation spot, but nothing ever gets built, right? Even having the workers stay in Summer Heats overnight and on the weekends didn’t help. After a few days, this place just gets t’you, right? Personally, Summer is the worst place to be spending any time. Why a lot of us moved in the first place.”

“Oh, you moved?” Sans questioned as he felt Cancell tug on the bag. “What? You want a biscuit? Hold on.” As Sans walked and dug into the bag at the same time, he continued. “So, where did you move from, Summer?”

Swap’s red eye gazed into the distance, at the rolling hills of the town. “Eh…”he trailed for a moment. “Hey, so, you know about the history of this place?” he asked, appearing to want to change the subject. “So, history says the Spectrals wanted to make sure there wasn’t another way out of the pit Assgore tossed them in---like, maybe there was hole leading back up to The Attic or something, right? So, they keep walking and it turns out the pit they were in wasn’t really a pit, but more like a huge ass cavern that was just as big as The Attic. So they just follow it til they reach a dead end and decide they got no choice but to live down here--- they ain’t gonna let Assgore kill ‘em quick or slow, right? So, they build The Moon and The Sun and then Summer, right? That’s it for a while. Then, they start journeying back out when they realize more monsters are still getting tossed down here.”

“Excuse me, but would you like a biscuit?”

“Yeah, sure. Thanks… fuck, that’s good. So anyway---”

“Don’t talk with your mouth full.”

“You ain’t my mom!”

“I said. Don’t. Talk. With. Your. Mouth. Full.”

“...Okay… Hmm… mmm, that really is some good shit, though. Uh, so anyway, they start setting up little camps, right? They’re kinda on the outskirts of what would end up being Spring and Winter. By the time Canary takes the throne, everyone’s either stayed in Summer or moved to Winter cause they didn’t like how orderly Summer was or how slow Spring was.”

“What about Autumn?”

“No one goes to Autumn.”

“What?” Sans questioned, looking into Swap’s single eye. “But… there’s a little village out there of… I think they’re Halflings?”

Swap appears to cock a brow. “Sans, what are you talking about? Ain’t nobody living out in Autumn, ‘cept that one goat chick. Have you met her? Oooh, boy, I ain’t never seen curves like that!! Ya think she seeing anyone?” Swap grinned.

Sans blushed. “Forget about that for a moment! Look, when Cancell and I walked through Autumn Falls, we came across a little village. There were monsters there, like little elves! They were staring at us! We must have taken at least five minutes to walk past them!”

“But, Sans, ain’t a village out there.”

“So, then, what…? Both me and my son were having the same hallucination?” Sans asked. “No, no, it was real, I promise you, it was real!” he peered up at Swap. “They had houses and gardens, some of them were gardening and… I know what I saw!”

Swap put his hands on Sans’ trembling shoulders. “Calm down, okay? Listen, did ya see a graveyard?”

“A… graveyard?” Sans questioned. “N-no. Why?”

Swap stepped back and crossed his arms, a shadowed hand coming to his chin. “I wonder if… But why would…? There’s supposed to be graveyard out there, right?” Swap murmured to himself. “That had to be were ya saw them…”

“I didn’t see a graveyard,” Sans insisted.

“But I think you _walked through it,”_ Swap retorted. “Just… not on…’this side’… ya know?”

“This side?”

“The, uh… living side….”

“Living….” Sans teeth set straight, sockets widen as both his pinpoints and S’s blew out. “Wait, are you saying they were…? Were they…?”

“Well, maybe not quite… but… similar?” Swap tugged at his collar. “I, uh, wouldn’t worry about it,” he gave a forced smile and waved his hand making a smoky blur. “Look, you came back okay, you’re back on ‘this side’, so everything’s fine, right!? Just, uh… chalk it up to another weird thing, right?”

“Why are you acting so nervous?” Sans asked. “Don’t you eat---?”

“Those things ain’t---!” Swap snapped, eye wide and fangs bared in a deep frown. His frown loosen. “Sorry…. Look.. I… I don’t eat whatever those things are…. Don’t want nothing to do with ‘em….” He looked away, hands curled in twitching fists.

Sans gulped before looking down at Cancell, who appeared a little queasy, his cheekbones almost paper white, his sockets dark, empty abysses. Sans squatted down and rested his hands on Cancell’s shoulders, bringing him back to the present.

‘Those couldn’t have been….’ Cancell whispered into Sans’ Soul. ‘B-but, those don’t… I mean, they do, but as actual Monsters, not as….’ Cancell looked up at Sans, sockets arched and wide. ‘What were those things?’

“Cancell, listen,” Sans started. “It was just a weird thing. A weird thing we probably shouldn’t bring up again, all right?”

Cancell gave a slow nod and Sans picked him up and held him close, reassuring them both that whatever they had experienced in Autumn was just as he said: a weird thing they would never bring up again.

“Um… you guys good?” Swap asked, his voice a little shaky. “We can take a break if you want. I mean, Spring needs a few days to get ya all lazy and stuff, so there’s really no rush right now, right?”

“We’re fine,” Sans gave a nervous smile. “Let’s just keep going. I mean, can we make it to Summer before nightfall?”

“It’ll be cutting it close, even with the shortcuts I know,” Swap admitted. “And, well, you guys really do look like you need a break.”

Sans sighed. “Fine,” he agreed. “Take us to the hotel nearest Summer and we can sleep there for the night.”

“A’ight,” Swap turned around and surveyed the streets. “We could take a right up there, but there should be a market just beyond the intersection. Food might be a good idea to get here since you guys ain’t got nothing to trade for it in Summer, right?”

“Yes, we are sort of lacking in that department,” Sans admitted. “That being the case, how are we supposed to get food here?”

Swap smirked. “Don’t worry ‘bout that. Just follow me.” And the shadow turned around and began down the hillside of the dirt road.

Sans glared. “I really don’t like that smirk.”

Long moments later, Sans found himself affirming his preference. “Seriously? I’m not stealing food!”

“Whose gonna stop us?” Swap gave an exaggerated look around “Ain’t no guards, right? Ain’t no store owners, right? Ain’t no one. So, just take it.” And Swap twirled around to survey the unattended cart of some sort of produce that resembled miniature apples.

Sans gave a low growl before glancing around.

Swap was right--- there wasn’t anyone here and well… they were running low on biscuits and they didn’t have anything to trade for food if Sans wanted to keep the Talismans on him.

“Damn it,” he muttered.

“It’s okay, Momma,’ Cancell whispered. ‘You’re not setting a bad example for me or anything. Our situation is rather… precarious.”

“That still doesn’t make this right,” Sans murmured as he stepped closer to the cart. After a moment of more internal conflict, he called out to Swap. “What do these taste like?”

Swap, who was already chomping down on the fruit(?) answered, “Sweet. Little Demon will probably like it,” He then offered Cancell a mini-apple.

Cancell snatched the offer. “You will address me as Cancelleresca.”

“Yeah, no,” Swap grimaced.

“Cancell is fine,” Swap spoke, taking a bite of the tiny fruit. “Oh, that is sweet.”

“Momma, I don’t want him calling me by my nickname!” the little skeleton protested.

“So I’ll call ya Little Demon then,” Swap offered. “But… if you’re gonna be a Demon, that I guess I should name you after the demon skeleton, Gashodokuro.”

Cancell’s frown soften. “What’s that mean?”

“A Gashodokuro is a giant skeleton that eats people!” Swap cried, hands in the air to appear larger. “They roam around at night, biting the heads off lone travelers and drinking their spraying blood! Ooooh!” Swap wiggled his fingers.

Cancell’s sockets lit up. “I wanna be a Gasho-Ga-gashodo---!”

“Ga.Sho.Do.Ku.Ro. And, well, you’re a little small to be a full grown one,” Swap observed. “So, how about Gashodo-chan? A little demon skeleton that eats everyone.”

“I like it!” Cancell clapped before stopping, a deep blush on his cheekbones. “I mean.. it is a very good nickname. I will give you permission to call me as such.”

Sans giggled as Swap gave a sigh and a shrug.

“Anything you say, Gashodo-chan,” the shadow waved off. “Now, let’s hurry before it gets too late. We’re already pushing it.”

Sans nodded and “gathered up” more food. Swap assured him that, “It’s just taking without asking is all. It’s only stealing if you get caught, right?”

That didn’t help Sans feel any better.

A few hours and several back alley short cuts later, the trio reached an inn on the outskirts of town. Form the street, Sans could see the shining lots of Summer Heat flickering out for the night. ‘Almost there,’ he smiled before walking into the front area.

A moment after Sans walked in, a pair of keys came flying out of the back room. Swap reached up and caught the keys before they slammed into Sans’ sockets.

Sans froze, teeth shifting, sockets wide as Swap read the numbers on the key as if Sans hadn’t almost been assaulted.

“Mmm, Room four and seven. I think the odd numbered rooms only have one twin bed, so I’ll take that one.”

Still huffing and clinging to Cancell’s tiny hands as his son tired to calm him, Sans breathed out, “Do they… always just…?”

“Throw ‘em? Yep. Sleep tight,” Swap smiled, gave Cancell the key and walked through a doorway on his right into a small sitting area, then towards a door in the back.

Sans took a few more breathes before letting his son lead him to their dingy hotel room that had a faint, musky smell. Only one lamp worked and the couch got stuck midway of being pulled out, but at least the bed sheets and bathroom seemed clean.

For now, Sans just sunk into the mattress face first and decompressed.

‘This place is insane, how does anyone live here? Red, you better not have turned around and died on me or I’ll kill you.’

After a sink bath (because of course the tub didn’t work), another restless night of sleep past.

And when Sans woke the next morning, Cancell had experienced another growth spurt. He sat on the floor, resting his back against the bed, wearing a t-shirt and shorts an inch or so too small for him. He was reading some sort of pamphlet--- Come Visit the Land of Eternal Spring!

Sans yawned and rubbed his face. “How old are you today?”

“I’d say seventeen? Eighteen on a good day,” Cancell answered, voice clear. “They were going to put hot springs out here. That sounds pleasant.”

“Hrm,” Sans murmured as he rolled out of bed. He grabbed an apple off the dresser just as a knock sounded on the door. Tugging on his shorts to pull out some discomfort, Sans approached the entranced. He unlocked the knob and cracked the door open. “Morning, Swap. …Did you change clothes?” Sans asked, noticing the Jikininki wore his suit and hat from yesterday (at least he thought Swap wore clothes? Maybe his shadowy form let him take shapes so he looked like he was wearing clothes?) “I have some extra clothes.”

“No need,” Swap replied with a slight glare. “I wanna get you guys to Summer. The sooner, the better.”

Sans shrugged. “All right. Just let me get changed.”

“Hurry up,” Swap snapped, fangs bared.

Sans gave a curious glance. _What has him so upset?_ he pondered as he closed the door. He ate, cleaned up and dressed in a shirt and shorts.

When the two Skeletons stepped into the hall, Swap did a double take. “Where’s the little one?”

“He had a growth spurt,” Sans answered. “Don’t worry about it.”

Swap gave a worried glance to Cancell. “Ya keep growing like that, ya gonna really end up a Gasho. Don’t bite anyone’s head off, kid, right?”

Cancell gave a small smile as the trio headed to the front.

Sans left a biscuit on the counter as payment and hurried outside after Cancell and Swap. As Sans approached, he paid closer attention to Cancell--- how tall he had gotten, how much larger and longer his horns had grown.

Sans wondered how tall he would be when his body caught up with his mind. At this rate, he’d be taller than Asgore, taller than Red.

Sans smiled at the idea of his two favorite skeletons being the same height.

Oh… when had Red become his favorite?

Sans shook his skull clear. _Focus. Only one more town, then the Sun, then… Just a little longer, Red._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Aw, Cancell is pretty much all grown up. Do keep in mind that he was always sort of mentally older than his body (though at the same time, he still had to work through the mental hurdles children deal with as they grow up). The main reason I did this was because a little Cancell couldn't physically fight a big guy like Asgore (i mean, unless this was a comedy, then maybe he could, but we're not in that camp). 
> 
> It also comes into play later with something that I'm still sort of unsure about, but I'm just gonna let it roll out and see how it goes. 
> 
> Prosophobia- the fear of progress.


	16. Eleuthero

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Cancell experiences new emotions like the young bean he is.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm just gonna let this one play out and hope no one takes it the wrong way. >.>

“Well, here we are.”

“Wow….”

The archway for the entrance of Summer Heats was a bright, almost lemon, yellow. Peeking over the arch were the tops of buildings painted an ochre yellow and trimmed in fiery orange. Beyond the gate, Sans could see the town bustling with monsters, carts full of wares and open stores. Two guards holding spears and wearing candy red armor eyed the trio from the gates, but they were overshadowed by everyone else wearing lemon yellow outfits trimmed in blinding snow white lines.

...That was a little strange.

“So, this place is lively,” Sans noted. “But, why is everyone’s clothes yellow and white? And the guards?”

“Canary’s orders,” Swap started, a grimace on his shadowed face.. “You can wear what you want, but clothes have to be yellow and white, right? The guards are just standard protection. The gate here is where the Kingdom of The Basement unofficially begins and ends--- everything inside the gate is “the kingdom,” everything outside the gate is… everything else, right?”

“I see…,” Sans nodded. “So, this is what Canary ended up doing…. The color requirement is a bit off putting, though.”

“It’s not just the matching outfits!” Swap cried, tossing up his hands. “Curfew is at eight p.m. If you’re going south or east, you gotta stay on the right side of the sidewalk, vice versa for north and west! Nearly everyone eats around the same time every day: You get an hour for breakfast, lunch, a snack and dinner-- eight a.m., eleven a.m., three p.m., and six p.m.! It’s like a prison!” Swap raged. “Why would anyone want to live like this every day! Why would she choose to stay here of all places!!?”

Sans blinked as Cancell stared on. “She?” they both questioned.

Huffing, Swap’s single eye widen in realization. “Fuck,” he cursed as he bared his teeth. “Look, I got ya to the gate, right? I’m out!” Swap twirled around, his coat flaring as if just as agitated as he was.

Just as he was about to start walking, a gentle voice called over the cacophony of the city.

“Swapfyle?”

Sans and Cancell looked to their left to see a… well, she was as beautiful as one could call a tall, curvaceous woman with peeling, pitch black skin, a missing right eye and stringy, disheveled hair the color of coal. Her visible eye was candy red, just as bright as Swap’s.

Speaking of Swap, the shadowed monster hadn’t moved.

“Swapfyle?” Sans questioned. “Like a.. swap file…? A memory card?”

Swap sighed. “I forgot you always took a walk to the gate,” he muttered.

The woman stepped closer, the guards moving to her side. “It’s okay, I know him,” she reassured them with a smile.

The guards nodded and returned to their posts, content with just watching for now.

The woman, dressed in fitted pants and a flaring, short-sleeved shirt, walked up to Swap, who still didn’t turn to face her.

Cancell stared, following her movements, sockets wide. His Soul pulsed, not in anger or fear, but… admiration?

“...Mom….”

Sans glanced up at his son. “Yes?”

“My Soul feels weird,” Cancell spoke, sockets still on the woman. “It’s pulsing really fast… and it’s warm and light? Am I sick?”

Sans tapped his chin and followed Cancell’s gaze to… her. “Ohhh,” Sans giggled. “Well, congratulations, love, you are experiencing your first crush.”

“Crush?”

“It’s when you have fondness for someone you just met. An infatuation.”

“Fondness…,” Cancell whispered as he watched the woman stand behind Swap. She was giving her arm a nervous rub before clasping her hands over her thighs, waiting for Swap to talk.

“...I can’t,” the shorter shadow spoke, his fists shaking. “I can’t. I’m not coming back. I can’t!”

“I understand,” she replied. “I’m just glad you’re okay.”

Swap turned to face the woman. His lips seemed to be trembling and his eye was glistening with tears. “You idiot! You’re supposed to get me to come back!”

“Oh, little one,” she smiled as she removed his hat. The hat vanished into smoke, revealing Swap’s spiky black hair. He looked so much younger. “I know how much you hated it here. I’d never force you to come back.”

“But the argument we had---”

“Yes, I said some mean things,” she admitted, face looking towards the ground. “We both did, but in these past few years, I’ve had time to think everything over. I realized your happiness is the most important thing--- even if that means you and I have to live apart.”

Swap sniffed, bared his fangs as his fists shook harder. His eye was shut tight, but tears still spilled. “You idiot!” he exploded. “Stop being so nice! I hate that! I can’t stay mad at you when you’re like that! You are the worst twin! I hate you! Go die! Go die!!”

She only smiled and gathered Swap in her arms. “You’re just as bad, running away like a spoiled brat. I hope you die in a ditch all alone.”

Swap burst into a new stream of tears and buried his face into his sister’s bosom.

Cancell frowned.

“Now, now,” Sans pat his spine. “It’s all right for a shorter brother to cry on his taller sister like that. Don’t get upset.”

“I’m not upset!” Cancell snapped and looked toward the archway. “Shouldn’t we be heading inside anyway!?”

“Just a moment,” Sans replied before padding over to the two siblings. “Um, hello, sorry to interrupt.”

Swap straightened up and a wisp of shadow formed his hat. He dried his face with the palms of his heads as quick as he could.

“I just wanted to say thank you, Swap, for helping us get here,” Sans smiled.

Swap only nodded.

“Aw, Swapfyle, did you make some friends?” the young woman smiled. “I’m Keepsayk, or Keep for short.” She held out her hand.   
”I’m Sans,” the skeleton returned the smile as he took the offer. “The other skeleton there is Cancell, my son. He, hm… has a little crush on you. I just thought you should know.”

“Say what!?” Swap jumped.

“Oh my,” Keep giggled and even seemed to be blushing (somehow).

“Oi! Hungry Skeleton!” Swap cried, making Cancell turn around. “Keep your bones away from my sister! You hear me, right!?”

Cancell blinked before twisting around. “No, sorry, can’t hear you from over there!”

Swap growled and stomped his boot-clad foot. “Why you….”

“It’s all right, Swappy,” Keep smiled. “He is sort of cute.”

“No he’s not!!” Swap wailed.

“I think he might be a bit too young for you, though,” Sans admitted. “So, if you could try not to lead him on too much, you know?”

“Or don’t lead him on at all!”

“Oh, I understand. Completely platonic,” Keep nodded. “I’ll treat him like Swappy, like a cute little brother.”

“Don’t you even think about doing that!”

“Thank you for being so understanding,” Sans smiled. “Hm, we’re trying to get to The Moon. Would you happen to know any short cuts?”

“I’m actually on my scheduled vacation from work this week,” Keep answered. “I’ll be happy to walk you there, as thanks for dealing with Swappy. I now he can be a little… difficult at times,” she rubbed his head, making his hat vanish again, much to his annoyance.

“Oh, he wasn’t difficult at all,” Sans smiled, waving off her concerns. “Though, he did want to trade my child for a mere Talisman.”

 **“WHAT!?”** Keep’s eye flashed, hair flaring, fangs and claws lengthening. **“SWAPFYLE!”** she whirled around and began to attack, claws flying. **“YOU DISGUSTING PIECE OF SHIT! I RAISED YOU BETTER THAN THAT! MOM AND DAD ARE ROLLING IN THEIR GRAVES! HOW COULD YOU BE SO DISGUSTING! GO DIE IN A DITCH, YOU WORTHLESS CORPSE FUCKER! DIE! DIE! DIE!”**

 _The two of them are quite alike in tempers,_ Sans noted as Keep beat her brother into a literal puddle on the ground. _They really are twins._

As soon as her rage had started, Keep calmed down, turned to Sans and bowed. “I am so sorry! Please forgive my worthless brother and forgive me as I have obviously failed in raising him! Our name has been besmirched! I hope my ancestors forgive us both! Lady Amatarasu, please forgive these sins!”

“It-it’s okay!” Sans reassured, hands up with a nervous smile. _I wanted him to get in a little trouble, but I certainly didn’t want Keep to feel so upset! Though, I can’t blame her… if Papy ever did the same thing, I’d be begging for forgiveness, too._ “Really, he helped out a lot. If you can help us get to The Moon as fast as possible, we can let this be water under the bridge, really!”

“Oh, thank you for the chance!” Keep cried. “Blessings from the Lady of the Sun be upon you! I should certainly ask Cancell for forgiveness as well!” And with that, she rushed off to the younger skeleton.

Sans turned his gaze to the puddle of shadow on the ground “Are you going to be all right?”

“...CaN’t BeLiEvE yOu RaTtEd Me OuT….” came a distorted voice, bubbles in the puddle popping. “…I tHoUgHt We WeRe CoOl….”

Sans shrugged. “What can I say? I guess I picked up a little bit of a vindictive streak from my son,” Sans glanced around. “Speaking of Cancell, he and Keep already seem close.”

“WHAT!?” Swap shrieked and was back to his “solid” form in mere seconds. To his (own personal) horror, Cancell was face first in Keep’s bosom in a sweet hug, sockets closed in bliss, cheekbones red.

“Ah, Cancell! You’re so cute!” Keep cried. “Your horns are so adorable! I can’t believe my brother wanted to trade you! I’d keep you all to myself if I could!”

“I am perfectly all right with that, Ms. Keep,” Cancell spoke in a dreamy tone.

"I AM NOT ALL RIGHT WITH THAT AT ALL!!” Swap shrieked as he rushed over.

“YOU STOP THAT!” Keep twisted around and clawed her brother into an instant puddle of shadow again. “I’m using your savings to treat both Cancell and Sans for the awful thing you tried to do! Someone in this family needs to show some integrity!” She smiled back at Cancell. “Come on, Cancell, let’s get you into a uniform. I bet yellow will really bring out those beautiful red pinpoints of yours.”

Cancell gave a shy chuckle.

“Come on, Sans!” Keep waved. “You’ll need a uniform, too. We can just leave this worthless puddle here!”

“No way! I’m coming!” Swap replied as he became solid again. “I saw Cancell when he was a kid--- he was cute then and he’s cute now! I don’t trust him around you for one second!”

“Oh, grow up, Swappy!”

“Yeah, grow up, Swappy.”

“I don’t wanna hear it form you, you little demon!”

“Swapfyle!”

“OW! OW!”

Sans followed behind the trio through the gate to a small kiosk of sorts, laughing to himself. For the first time in a long while, he was having a good time--- though, having to wear such a bright shade of yellow was a little disconcerting. He liked the cut of his little suit, but the color made him look paler than he was.

Cancell, however, looked nice, having a darker shade of white on his bones. He had chosen a thigh high skirt and a chest (or ribcage) high, long sleeved shirt. He was allowed to wear his scarf as the officials considered the article of clothing a heirloom and those were allowed to be worn. Despite only passing through, as long as they were in Summer Heats, not only did they have to stay in yellow colored outfits, but they had to abide by all rules and curfews. Keep promised to help them navigate their way around.

After combing Swap’s hair straight (because he wouldn’t be caught dead (more dead?) in a yellow hat) the trio set off for lunch as eleven o’ clock was rolling around. Because of the set directions, moving among the crowd was easy, though Cancell couldn’t help but window shop every few minutes, pointing to “Summer Approved” accessories and trinkets.

Sans was starting to see where the term “shopping spree” came from. Cancell often picked out the more expensive wares, most of which Keep would buy for him just to add another metaphorical stab wound to her brother’s Soul and bank account.

Sans was a bit worried this would become a “sugar momma” situation, so after having lunch and after Cancell had several rings, fancy skirts and shirts, a bit of make up, new pairs of shoes, socks and undies, Sans barred him from farther shopping. With a pout, Cancell conceded. Keep also apologized for getting a little carried away, then made a call to a nice hotel to make reservations for the two so they wouldn’t push past curfew looking for a place (and to also give Swap somewhere to carry all of Cancell’s goods). While Swap played pack mule, Keep showed the skeletons around the city--- there were theaters, libraries, museums, playhouses, book stores, music halls--- Canary had put his all into making Summer Heats near perfect--- Sans was on the brink of forgiving him for the forced uniform color and set eating hours. Maybe he could convince him to lighten up?

Sans thought over the idea as Keep treated them to snacks, signaling three o’ clock. “Hey, Keep. What do you think of the Prince?”

“He’s an uptight prick,” Swap muttered into his sandwich, taking a break from transporting bags across town.

Keep glared at her brother, but went ahead and answered. “He’s… a little harsh, but fair. I think he’s just trying his best. He’s very proud of Summer. It’s not unusual to see him walking around, enjoying the sights. I hope….” Keep looked to her sandwich. “I hope he’ll be okay after his brother heals. I was at home cleaning up before bed when I heard the cart rushing down the road. I looked out and saw the Prince in the cart, leaning over… I don’t know what I thought it was, it just… it didn’t look… alive, you know?” she asked.

Sans gave a slow nod and Cancell rest his sandwich on his plate.

“It didn’t take long to put two and two together.” Keep continued. “Red doesn’t have to wear the uniform--- or more like, he doesn’t want to. Either way, he stands out because of it. After a few days of not seeing him, we realized it must have been him in that cart…. Then, the decree came.”

“Decree?” Sans questioned.

“The Prince wants to go to war with The Attic, to avenge his brother,” Keep replied.

 _So, everyone seems to know about that,_ Sans thought. _Did Toriel find out when Canary assigned Red’s role to her? That’s a long way to send a message otherwise._

“Has he done anything more than send out a decree?” Sans asked.

“No, though we noticed The Sun has been sending out different wavelengths every other day.” Keep reached into a pocket and pulled out a white talisman decorated with a little silhouette of a person. “They don’t charge very fast on the ‘off’ days.”

“You kept it,” Swap whispered, eye wide.

“Hm?” Keep looked towards Swap. “Oh. Well, of course I did,” she smiled. “It was a gift from you, after all.”

Swap gave a shy glance before reaching into his pocket and pulling out his watch.

Keep gasped, hands coming to her face.

Swap gave a small smile. “It was a gift, after all.”

Keep sniffed. “Ex-excuse me,” she replied before getting up and heading to the bathroom.

“Is she okay?” Cancell asked.

“Yeah,” Swap answered as he put the watch back into his pocket.

“So, she gave you a watch and you gave her a Talisman?” Sans asked. “What’s so special about the Talisman?”

“I made it,” Swap answered. “Takes a lot of magic and skill, but, yeah….”

“Swap, that’s so sweet,” Sans cooed.

“If you can make a real Talisman, why not do that for money?” Cancell asked.

“It’s illegal to make Talismans without The Sun’s permission, because so many monsters make counterfeits--- and that’s because it’s so hard to get permission in the first place. Lots of red tape, right?” Swap paused to drink his cola. “It’s also time consuming as hell to make a real one. Gotta find the right stone, whittle it down, carve it was special tools, there’s a whole, long ass process.”

“Well, it’s still a wonderful gesture,” Sans noted.

“She deserved it, puttin’ up with a brat like me,” Swap murmured.

“I’m back,” Keep called as she approached the table. “Who’s ready for an arcade visit!”

“What’s an arcade?” Cancell asked.

“Oooo, you are going to love this! I promise!” Keep cried, taking Cancell’s hand. “Let me just pay up first and we can head out.”

Cancell nodded as he followed Keep to the counter.

“She’s really spoiling him,” Sans sighed. “But, maybe he deserves it. It’s been hard for both of us… I guess I can let him have a special day.”

“Does he have to spend his ‘special day’ with my sister, though?” Swap grimaced.

“I think they’re cute together,” Sans admitted. “I just don’t want him to get hurt, Keep being older and all….”

“Wait, how old is---?”

“Guys, let’s go!” Keep called. “Arcade!”

“Arcade!” Cancell chanted, smile huge.

Sans smiled back. “Arcade.”

They walked a bit before reaching the colorful building, staying a while and playing all manner of games (shooting, VR, fighting, pinball and even something similar to wack-a-mole) until dinner, which turned into a rather lavish affair that Swap “paid for.” Sans couldn’t remember the last time he had eaten so much food.

He had to admit, Summer was starting to grow on him….

After dessert, Keep led the two to their hotel room--- a giant space with two king-sized beds, television, BaseNet Connection, and a deep soaker tub.

“Okay, I really like this place, I admit it,” Sans spoke, a little sheepish.

“Glad to hear it,” Keep smile. “Summer isn’t so bad once you get used to the schedule. Once you go through all the paperwork, you can totally move here.”

“Paperwork…? Oh! Oh, right, yes, paperwork,” Sans gave a weak smile. _They just think I’m another Attic Monster trying to become a citizen. I guess that’s okay for now._

“Anyway, get some sleep,” Keep spoke. “I’ll be over bright and early for breakfast and we’ll stop by The Sun tomorrow on the way to The Moon---I think Red shows it off to newcomers. It shouldn’t be a long visit, either way.”

“Great. We’ll see you tomorrow,” Sans replied. “And thanks so much for everything today, Keep, I really do owe you a lot.”

“Think nothing of it!” she waved off. “See ya tomorrow. Bye, Cancell,” she blushed.

Cancell blushed, waved, then ducked into the room, making Keep giggle. “Well, come on, Swap. Your room is still set up, so you can crash with me.”

“Yeah, I”ll meet ya at the elevator. Gotta ask Sans something.”

Keep stared for a moment, then shrugged. “Well, okay. Don’t take too long.” She turned around and began down the hall, disappearing around the corner.

“Is something wrong?” Sans asked, closing the door a bit so Cancell, who was digging into his bags of goodies, couldn’t hear.

Swap dropped his voice low. “Earlier, you said you were worried that Keep was too old for Cancell, right? How old is he?”

“Oh,” Sans blinked, surprised at the question. “Seventeen, or ‘eighteen on a good day,’ as he put it. I think he’s closer to seventeen though.”

Swap’s eye closed as he groaned, a hand coming to his face.

“What’s wrong!?” Sans panicked, stepping into the hall.

“Keepsayk is seventeen!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *wiggles eyebrows* 
> 
> So, Cancell has been alive for a few months now? But he's matured to be physically and mentally 17-18, and aside from the times he's acted like a kid because he was a kid, he's been shown to have some advanced intelligence. Now his body matches that intelligence for the most part (maybe he should really be a little older?).
> 
> Anyway, I thought him experiencing a relationship outside of a mother-son one would be interesting and maybe even help him grow a little more. His mother may be fine with him killing Asgore, but how would a potential lover feel about it? What choices would Cancell make to assuage the situation when such a talk came up? Would he value their opinion and let it change his mind? Would an ultimatum come up? The answers would be interesting to see, I think. 
> 
> Plus, it pisses Swap off and he totally deserves it. =3
> 
> As for Swap and Keep's name, originally it was a play on Swap "swapping" things and Keep "staying" home, both doing what was best for them at the time. I don't know what made me think about memory, but I found the term swap file, which is just another name for a memory card. Keepsake followed, and it sort of extends on the whole trading and retaining things. People trade memory cards/files all the time, but you wouldn't trade a family treasure. Swap trades Talismans for things, (but he could never trade the treasure his sister gave him). Keep has always kept the Talisman her brother made for her. 
> 
> Next update is Friday...? Yes, Friday. You take one day off and your schedule gets all sorts of wack, lol.
> 
> Eleutherophobia- the fear of freedom


	17. Aphenphosm

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Wait, is this a little fast!? I don't think my body is ready!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm glad everyone is enjoying the Cancell x Keep subplot. I was worried it wouldn't go over so well for reasons. What should we call this pairing? Shady Skeleton? Sounds mysterious. =3

The next morning, bright and early, Sans blinked awake, the light blinding as beams crept through the blinds. He sat up, rubbed his sockets with a yawn.. He then looked to the other bed.

Cancell was spread out over the sheets, blankets tossed over him, loud snores crawling from his fangs. He didn’t appear any older, so his body must have caught up to his seventeen year old mind. Did his age also reflect how many years of magical experience he really had? Did his son have almost twenty years of magic within him already?

Sans couldn’t be sure at this point and decided that early morning before breakfast was not a good time to ask such complicated questions. He crawled out of bed, stretching as he went into the bathroom to clean up for the day. After putting on his sun yellow shirt and pants, he walked to the the other bed and shook Cancell awake.

“Uggh….”

“I know, I know,” Sans replied as he began to tidy up the room, collecting all the clothes Cancell had tried on (again), plus the jewelry and shoes. _Where are we going to keep all of this while we travel? Maybe Keep can have Swap take all this to her house and we can get it later? Oh, right!_ “Cancelleresca!” Sans sung as he folded more clothes.

“Hrmm?” Cancell murmured, sitting up.

“I found out last night that a certain monster is also seventeen.”

Cancell tilted his skull. “…Who?”

“Oh, just a lovely monster who helped us all day yesterday.”

Cancell’s pinpoints fizzled out. “Ke-keepsayk is… is seventeen? Se-seriously?”

Sans chuckled. “That’s what Swap told me. I don’t think he’d lie about something like that.”

“But… but… she’s so… so….” Cancell’s skull went candy red.

Sans looked towards the ceiling in thought. “She does have a rather… womanly figure for her age. But, she is a sweetheart and she seems to love spoiling you. Just make sure you return the favor a few times a week. Oh, and I mean with nice gestures and a gift or two! You keep that _other type_ of excitement in your skirt, understand!”

Cancell’s empty sockets stared at Sans, catching his mother’s attention. “Do you think she’d…?”

Sans stared. “You… You mean date you, right? Most likely---”

Cancell let out a loud squeal and slammed back onto the bed, legs pumping up and down and hands coming to his red skull.

In short, he seemed quite giddy at the idea of Keep liking him.

Sans sighed, relieved that Cancell seemed more occupied with the more innocent part of courtship for the moment. “Well, then, you two have my blessing and all that.”

“Don’t ya dare give him that!” came a familiar screech from the other side of the door.

Cancell stopped squealing and sat up as Sans approached, then opened, the door.

A shadowed, growling face glared at him.

“Good morning, Swapfyle,” Sans spoke.

“I ain’t lettin’ him date my sister!”

“And who said I had to ask for your permission?” came a stern voice.

At the end of the hall stood Keep, dressed in a button up shirt, a thigh-high skirt and knee-high boots.

“Is that Keep!?” Cancell cried and barreled out of bed for the door. He leaned over Sans and looked up the hall. He waved. “Good morning, Keep!”

Keep’s sour face sweeten in an instant. “Good morning, cutie!” she waved back.

Cancell blushed. “I gotta get dressed!” he cried and ducked back inside.

Keep strolled up, hips swaying, and glared at Swap. “You listen here. I’m obviously the adult between us, so don’t tell me who I can and can’t be interested in. I, for one, think Cancell is sweet and cute. Maybe I’ll even marry him in a few years and pop out hundreds of bony, shadow babies for him!” She smirked. “What do you think about that!”

“I DON’T WANT TO THINK ABOUT THAT AT ALL!” Swap whined, tugging on his hair so hard, strands vanished into smoke.

“Hm,” Sans tapped his chin. “It would be interesting to see the results of an Attic and Basement monster---”

“DON’T EVEN FINISH THAT SENTENCE!” Swap cried. “DON’T ENCOURGE HER!”

Sans gave a small smile. “Would it be all right if we kept Cancell’s clothes and things at your place?” he asked Keep. “Maybe Swap can take it all there. It might help him calm down a bit, too. Like taking a walk.”

“That’s a wonderful idea!” Keep smiled.

“That’s a horrible idea!” Swap countered, his shadowed form wiggling in agitation.

“Don’t worry, Swapfyle,” Sans gave a sweet smile and a reassuring pat on the shoulder. “I’ll make sure nothing happens between them, promise.”

Swap sniffed up tears of frustration. “You better,” he grumbled and stomped into the room.

Sans looked up at Keep. “Honestly, there are a few things Cancell and I have to take care of, or, at least, talk about, so let’s keep everything in our skirts, all right? That goes for both of you, too.”

Keep blushed and gave a quick nod.

“All right then,” Sans nodded back. “Let me just gather up some things in my bag and we’ll have breakfast. Swapfyle,” Sans called as he turned around. “I’m leaving some snacks for you in case you miss breakfast.”

“It’s fine, I won’t miss breakfast,” Swap replied as he stomped out of the room, hands full of bags.

“Oh, are you sure?” Sans called. “There’s a lot of bags!”

“I got it!” Swap waved off, leaving behind a confused Sans.

Cancell, meanwhile, stepped out of the bathroom.

“Oh my goodness! We match!” Keep squealed.

Cancell glanced down at his similar outfit. “Aw, we do,” he blushed. “Should I change?”

“No, it’s too cute!” Keep cooed, rushing in and taking Cancell’s hands. “You are too cute! Come on, let’s head out for breakfast! I know the perfect place!” She wrapped arms around Cancell’s and the two chatted as they began down the hall, Sans padding behind them.

During breakfast, Swap indeed showed up to eat, have found the trio by just heading to his sister’s favorite spot. Sans was left to ponder how Swap had moved all those bags in less than thirty minutes as he was unable to ask the shadowed monster when he was done eating. Swap dropped his fork, got up and strolled out, saying something about “personal errands.” Keep reassured the two skeletons that Swap wasn’t doing anything illegal (maybe), then changed the subject.

Keep explained that she worked for an entertainment magazine that reported on all the plays and music concerts, as well as conducted interviews, wrote various reviews and even answered reader questions. Bering a reporter paid well enough for a decent two-room apartment and offered a lot of discounts. Sans could imagine Keep spoiling Cancell on her own dime without problem.

But, Keep had been a hard worker since her and Swap’s parents had died a few years ago (their father in a cart accident, their mother soon after of a broken heart, though doctors would only say “natural causes.”) Not wanting to take a chance of being separated in the foster system, with a little aid from The Moon, Keep worked nights at a diner to put her and Swap through school, then Swap took odd jobs to help Keep through accelerated college (which, while faster, gave fewer degree options). But, as the years went on, Swap grew more irritated at the strict rules of Summer. The two had a huge argument about moving and when Keep wouldn’t relent, Swap packed up a bag and stormed out.

“That was two years ago,” Keep finished as she led the two along a well-kept path lined with manicured grass, topiary and short, bubblegum pink trees. “Knowing what he’s done, or tried to do… I really should have brought him home.” Keep continued after a few moments of silence. “But, I don’t want to force him to do anything. I don’t want to fight him again. But….” she sighed. “I’m sorry. I’m just dumping all of my problems on you.”

“It’s okay,” Cancell replied, reassuring her with a squeeze of his hand. “Even if we can’t think of an answer now, talking about it is still okay. It’s a good way to relieve all the stress at least.”

Keep gave a small smile before her gaze turned towards the top of the inclining path. “There’s The Sun.”

Sans was surprised by how small the white building was. Perhaps the inside was bigger? The building was overall square, parts of the roof higher than others. Atop the roof was a large honey-colored sphere with a huge star made of matching beams crisscrossing over the sphere’s front. Thin wires rose from sphere’s base, surrounding the orb like outstretched fingers.

…A pair of hands cupping a sun.

At the black door, Keep knocked and a few moments later, a tiny yellow dinosaur in a lab coat appeared, peeking through a slit between the door and wall before opening the door farther. Her large brown eyes blinked behind thick glasses.

“Oh, good morning, Keepsayk,” her thick voice greeted.

“Good morning, Dr. Alphys. This is Sans and Cancelleresca,” she introduced them with a wave of her hand. “They’re new here, so I decided to take them to The Sun and The Moon since Red is out of commission for the moment.”

“Ah, I see, I see,” Alphys nodded. “Well, would you like to come in for a quick tour?” she asked the skeletons.

“Well… we’re… sort of in a hurry,” Sans admitted, hands kneading each other. “I… I know Red personally and after being tossed down here, I… I just wanted to make sure he was okay.”

“Alphys blinked, straightening up. “I see…. Well… I’m not sure if the Prince will let you see him, but… I… may know someone who may be able to help you at least get a personal audience with the Prince. Please, come in.”

Sans nodded and stepped past Cancell to follow Alphys into a rather colorful and large room, walls and banister glistening in purples and golds. On a platform right across from the door was what appeared to be a large well with a long, thick golden pole leading up into the ceiling (and to the “sun” atop the roof, no doubt).

“Is that were the magic comes from?” Cancell pointed.

“Ah, yes,” Alphys spoke. “Below this building is a large “well” of magic. The magic is purified by this rod--- it’s made of very carefully calibrated minerals that attract impurities found in magic. At designated times, the rod purifies the magic while drawing it up, then releases it through the antenna on the roof. That magic recharges the Talismans by filling them with usable magic that our Souls can connect to. Now, the farther you are from The Sun, the slower the recharge, but we are trying to make a faster recharge rate overall as well as trying out different frequencies by adjusting the minerals in the rod.”

“...Are you hoping to find one that matches The Attic?” Sans asked.

Alphys stared, eyes wide, mouth a little puckered. “Uh, well… perhaps. I.. I’m not really at liberty to say. Hm… Sans, could you come with me, into the conference room? The monster I want to call to assist you may want to speak with you. Cancelleresca and Keepsayk are more than welcomed to look around . Oh, but the room upstairs is off limits. Maintenance and heavy equipment and what not.”

Cancell nodded as Keep took out her Talisman. The flat rock was no longer white.

“This is a Shadow Talisman. It’s like a teleport,” Keep explained to the skeleton. “Don’t tell Swapfyle, but, since it lets you jump from shadow to shadow and you’re sort of invincible, I totally use it when I’m late for work. If I can sneak in, I look like I’ve been there the whole time. Shh!” she hushed with a finger to her smiling lips.

The two teens giggled as Sans followed Alphys into another room with a long, chocolate brown table and matching swivel chairs. The carpet was a deep indigo and plush, the walls a light sapphire. The room was in a dim light and the sound from the humming well and turning rod cut out when Alphys closed the door.

The small dinosaur sighed as she offered Sans a seat. “How long have you been here?”

“Just a few days,” Sans answered.

“Ah. Well, I’m sorry that you had to traverse most of the way alone,” Alphys replied.

“It wasn’t… too… terrible,” Sans tried to lie. “So, may I ask how long you’ve been down here?”

“Well, let’s see…,” Alphys spoke, voice trailing. “It was a while after the war ended, but a bit before we completely established the Underground.”

“That long…?” Sans whispered.

“Yes, quite some time,” Alphys replied as she picked up the phone to her left and dialed a number. She began talking again as the phone rang. “I used to be Asgore’s Head Scientist, studying Souls---yes, this is Dr. Alphys. Can you transfer me to First Commander Undyne? …Yes, I’ll hold. Anyway,” she looked back at Sans. “Asgore didn’t like the suggestion of not using the Souls to break the barrier.”

“Really?” Sans questioned.

“He thought not using Souls would somehow weaken his power,” Alphys explained. “I suppose he needed the idea of waiting for Souls---of just waiting a little longer for freedom--- to keep morale up in the Kingdom. However, I thought just waiting for Souls was counterproductive when we could have studied the barrier itself for a weakness. Don’t you think---? Oh! Hello, Undyne! How are you? …Fine, fine. Listen, we have a new citizen who says he knows Red personally and would like to see him…. I know, I know, but the Prince really trusts you, so I thought…. He won’t? That is worrisome…. But, it’s been a few weeks and I even heard that Red has recovered nicely so far, so maybe…. You will? Okay…. Yes, I’m sure we can. Yes, I understand. I should be able to take a few hours off. All right, then… What? Well, of course…. We’ll have to talk about it later, but yes. All right, thank you.” Alphys hung up. “Well, Undyne, the First Commander, said she may be able to convince the Prince to let you speak with him so you can discuss seeing Red. The Prince has been very… conservative about who is allowed to see his brother. Even Undyne hasn’t been allowed to see him, despite her absolute loyalty to the Prince, but now that’s it been some time and Red is out of immediate danger, your chances are probably better. Also, she wants me to come with you so I can verify your request with the Prince. It’s just to make sure the situation wasn’t a fabrication or a hoax--- yes, yes, I know, it’s silly, but, as I said, the Prince has been very protective of Red since the incident. Now, if you’ll gave me a few minutes to inform my colleagues, we can head to The Moon in only a few moments. It should be about an hour’s walk from here to The Moon, perhaps shorter if we keep a brisk pace. If you’ll excuse me,” Alphys nodded.

Sans nodded in return as Alphys slid from her chair and exited the room. He let out a breath, mind clashing between the information Alpnys had just given him and the confirmation that he may be able to see Red soon.

 _So, Alphys was tossed down here really early… Probably a bit after the Spectrals. I wonder if she had time to get to know Toriel. I certainly don’t remember a previous Head Scientist before dad. And a Head Commander? Of the Guard, I guess? Undyne… she can help me see Red…. Red…._ Sans clenched his shirt. _Wait… I… I don’t think I’m ready for this! I can’t, I can’t! What if he hates me after what happened!? What if he blames me for his injuries!? What if he never wants to see me again!?_ Sans closed his sockets tight, hugged himself, breathed in and out, in and out… in and out.

“It’ll… it’ll be okay,” he whispered as his Soul slowed to a gentle pulse. “Everything will be okay…. Everything… will be… okay…,” he breathed. “Everything will be okay.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hrm, I have I hard time working out the timeline for things that happened far back in history in just my head alone. I really should sit down and sketch it out next time. But, yeah, Alphys and Undyne have been in The Basement for a long while. Alphys at least was tossed down here before the Underground was fully settled, so it was probably shortly after her role was given to her. That said, she probably didn't have a lot of time to get to know Toriel like Sans did. I wonder what Asgore said to Toriel when she noticed she hadn't seen that little dinosaur in a while....
> 
> Updates should return to Tuesday and Thursday baring any surprises. I also typed up the last chapter yesterday since I got done with this one much earlier than expected. I didn't want to rush it since it's the longest written chapter, so I figured I'd go ahead and at least type it up. It still needs editing, but since it's typed it, I can post it the same day as the next to last chapter and just finish the story out without leaving you guys on a cliffhanger. I'm cruel, but not that cruel =D
> 
> Aphenphosmphobia- the fear of intimacy


	18. Athazagora

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> So, you're the one he was talking about....

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey, we're back on schedule! We are so close to not only Red and Sans reuniting, but the ending of this story as well! Ah, it's getting bittersweet again....

Within the hour, Sans, Cancell, Keep and Alphys stood in front of the magnificent castle, The Moon. Sans couldn’t help but compare the architecture to a small, yet towering, cathedral, spires glistening translucent purples and blues, loops of sparkling silver spiraling around the building adding a sort of fantasy touch. The surrounding grounds were trimmed in the same way the path to The Sun was. There were small fountains filling the _sweet_ air with tranquil white noise.

“Gods Above and Below,” Sans whispered, sockets trailing up the immense structure. He couldn’t remember The Attic’s castle ever looking so beautiful and magnificent.

“It is amazing, isn’t it?” Keep smiled.

Sans didn’t reply as the large front doors swung open and a tall, cerulean blue fish lady strolled out, long rose red hair in a ponytail, single ochre yellow eye glancing down the steps.

“There’s Undyne,” Alphys pointed out.

Wearing slick, indigo armor, Undyne took slow steps to meet the group at the stairs. “I am First Commander Undyne, Head of the Royal Guard,” she spoke, voice clear. “Which one of you requested to see Citizen Coordinator Crimson?”

 _Triple C, huh?_ Sans noted. “I did,” he answered, taking a step forward. _I suppose if we’re being official…._ “I am Comic Sans Courier Skeleton, former Adviser to Asgore.” _I suppose there’s really no reason to go beyond that._

“Ah,” Undyne nodded. “Well, as that monster’s former adviser of all things, I don’t think you need to go into any detail as to how you ended up here.”

“Yes,” Sans gave a pained smile. “I suppose in reality, I was dealing with a ticking time bomb.”

Undyne gave a curt laugh, easing the mood. “That is one way to describe it. I, myself, offered to absorb a Soul and cross the barrier to get more of them. Needless to say, he did not take too well to that idea.”

Sans sighed. “ Yes, he often attacks those who would be the first to offer aid and I suppose our closeness to his position made us the most likely traitors to him. I am a bit concerned that I’ve never heard mention of you or a Head of the Royal Guard. Surely, when I talked with Toriel, she would have mentioned you.”

“You will find that some of us had little interaction with her,” Undyne informed. “Asgore had a tight handle on our positioning. During the settlement of the Underground, we were sent all over to deal with the confusion. During that time, many were disappearing. Now, I believe I have a better idea of where many of them disappeared to, as well as why.” Her gaze lowered.

After a moment, Alphys spoke. “Undyne, will Sans be able to meet the Prince today?”

“Ah, that,” Undyne started. “The Prince has had many meetings this morn, so I have not been able to speak with him. Lunch will be upon us soon, so perhaps we will be able to dine with him. In the meantime, I can show you to guest rooms. How many rooms will you need?”

“Well, my son, Cancelleresca and I should be able to share a room,” Sans answered before turning to Keep. “Are you going to head home? Swap is probably waiting for you there.”

“I…” She glanced at Cancell. “I… would like to help where I can, if that’s all right. Um… in case there’s some sort of.. cultural differences,” she smiled a bit too wide.

Undyne narrowed her eye and Alphys gave a curious side glance. Cancell looked away with a blush and Sans rolled his pinpoints with a shrug.

“Well… that should be fine,” Undyne conceded. “Two rooms then. Allow me to show you to the guest quarters.” The guards woman turned and led the group into the Great Hall, ruby carpet plush, honeyed walls decorated with portraits of various Spectrals-- past kings and queens most like.

The passage opened into the Grand Hall, a splendid white and silver room housing two silver staircases, the banisters decorated with spiraling ironwork. Soft murmurs drifted from a pair of closed doors to the right, but Undyne led the group up the left hand staircase, around the landing and down another red and gold hallway, this one decorated with pictures of flowers.

“These are the guest chambers,” Undyne informed. “These first two rooms should be fine. The first one should have two beds,” the fish woman pointed to the door on the right. “I”ll leave you to get comfortable. In the interim, I will be downstairs, waiting for the Prince to finish his meeting and inform him of your arrival.”

“He… won’t be upset that you technically let us in without him really knowing, will he?” Sans asked.

“Well…,” Undyne glanced away. “He may be a little upset and there is a possibility he may ask me to… escort you out.”

Sans looked down, brow bone furrowing. He sighed. “Tell him this: the Adviser to Asgore is here and wants to discuss both Crimson’s incident and this pending war. That should get his attention.”

Undyne’s single eye widen. “What do you hope to achieve by meeting him?”

“I want to prevent a war for starters,” Sans answered. “The topic of Crimson is a bit more personal. Oh, would the rooms happened to have clothes? I think a suit would be better, preferably not in such a bright shade of yellow.”

“There are clothes in your room,” Undyne answered. “In various shades even. The Prince does not wish his guests to want for anything. Come now, Alphys. I believe they will need some time to prepare.”

Alphys nodded and followed Undyne to the stairs.

“Well, I think we should clean up and change---again,” Sans suggested.

“Even me?” Keep asked.

“Yes,” Sans smiled. “Having a citizen of The Basement as an ally could prove helpful. Think of it as a display of friendly intentions. Let’s hurry along then.”

The three separated, Keep going a bit down the hall, Sans and Cancell into the room nearest them.

This room was grand, bigger than Sans’ back in The Attic. Decorated in more intricate ironwork, curves twirled around the edges of mirrors and the legs of the vanity and canopy beds. The colors were royal purple, navy blue and splashes of honey yellow. Canary indeed loved his bright yellow, but he at least knew when to tone the shade down, much to Sans’ relief.

Sans made his way to the armoire across the room and opened the door. “Ah… a nice, black suit. Perfect. Cancell, what do you want to wear? I think there are a few skirts in here… Cancell?”

“Mom, this tub is huge!”

“Yes, dear. Start up a bath, then come pick out an outfit.”

“Okay,” Cancell called. A moment later, water could be heard rushing into the tub.

As Sans laid out his suit on the bed, he began to go into thought. What would he say to Canary? Should he apologize about Red first or bring up the war? He imagined either one would make Canary snap at him--- meeting with the Skeleton (semi) responsible for Red’s hospitalization as well as objecting to the war.

 _Maybe I should ask him what he would like to discuss,_ Sans pondered, then sighed. _I used to be good at making hard decisions like these.… But they’ve never been this personal before. What should I even say? I guess I’ll just start from the beginning--- how we met, what Asgore did to me, how I needed to a safe place to hide, how Asgore…_ Sans brushed away a tear.

“Mom?”

The shorter skeleton turned to see his son standing just a few feet away, sockets arched.

“Are you all right?” Cancell asked.

Sans nodded. “Yes, just… trying to think up a way to explain all of this to Canary,” he answered, turning back to the bed. “It’s… a lot, but all very important. All I could think to do is start from the beginning. But, it still hurts to think about it. Even now, I can smell the sulfur, feel the heat….”

Before Sans could continue, arms wrapped around him from behind.

“It’s okay,” Cancell whispered.

Sand closed his sockets. “I’m so afraid. I’m so afraid that, when Red sees me, he’ll tell me he hates me… He’ll….”

“He won’t,” Cancell reassured him. “I told you, _you_ didn’t hurt Crimson. In fact, he even tried to save you--- he _chose_ to fight Asgore, after all. He didn’t run. He’ll probably be so happy to know you’re alive.”

Sans sniffed and used a hand to dry his sockets. He hadn’t given the idea that Red would be happy to see him much thought. On top of that, Red _had_ decided to fight Asgore, even after Sans begged him to run.

 _...Just like he begged me…,_ Sans gave a small smile. _We’re just two boneheads who care too much._

“I’m gonna turn off the tub now,” Cancell spoke. “You can go first.”

“Thank you,” Sans smiled as he turned around to give Cancell a hug. He then made his way into the pristine bathroom. Everything glistened--- the marble floor and sink, the shelves holding towels folded in perfect squares. The tub even had a soft glow and the water sparkled in the low light.

After Cancell turned off the water and left, closing the bathroom door, Sans undressed and slipped into the warm water. A sense of relaxation wrapped around his bones. This was even nicer than the soaker tub back at the hotel.

Troubled thoughts ebbing away, Sans decided he would clear the air about Red first. He knew a huge weight would be lifted off his Soul if he could apologize, admit his guilt, see Red in person and know for sure he was recovering without complications.

And if Canary denied him the chance to see Red…. Well, Undyne seemed to be the next logical chose in asking to as least pass any sort of message to Red.

But, Sans decided to be optimistic. Canary would let him see Red and after Sans was sure he was okay, he could engage Canary in conversation about the war--- why the proposition wasn’t a good idea: innocent monsters would die, resources would be wasted, places destroyed, valuable records lost….

Perhaps he could convince Canary to duel Asgore instead? The Prince seemed a noble sort and since the war was more for Red’s injuries than anything else, Canary might even relish the idea of fighting Asgore one-on-one.

If Canary agreed, they’d have to find a way to re-tune the Talismans, though coaxing Asgore to come to The Basement and distracting him long enough to allow his Soul re-tune was also another (much dangerous) option.

But, no matter the choice, they still had to figure out a way to open the door.

Sans sighed and sunk lower into the tub, closing his sockets and just imagining clouds floating by. His father had taught him this trick whenever he was working through a difficult problem. His mind could relax for a moment before continuing, the relaxation process acting as a soft reset.

Sans finished up in the tub, dried off in the fluffiest towel he hand ever used and finished up his other hygiene tasks before going into the bedroom.

“Hm… empty,” Sans noted as he walked into the bed to put on his suit. “Cancell, you better not be where I think you are.”

Dressed to meet royalty, Sans walked into the hall and turned right to march next door.

He could hear giggling.

“Hey!” Sans called, knocking on the door. “I said keep it in your skirts. Cancell, get out here!”

The door creaked open and Cancell peeked out, skull red. “We weren’t doing anything….”

“Yeah, that’s always how it starts,” Sans glowered. “You two are not old enough to be dealing with kids, especially you, or did you forget just being a baby barely a week ago?”

“Of course not!” Cancell’s blush brighten.

“Cancell, listen,” Sans pressed. “I’m not doing this to be mean. You literally grew up so fast. You need time to discover who you really are, who Keep really is, before you get into the physical side of this, understand? Because things will change between you two once you go that far and if you do this before you’re ready, it might not be a change you two like.” Sans leaned over to see Keep buttoning up her shirt, face somehow glowing red. “You hear me, young lady?”

“Y-Yes, s-sir!” she blurted out.

“All right,” Sans noted. “So, from here on out, the only times clothes come off is for bathing and sleeping. Keep it in your skirts. Shirts are also now on the list of places to keep it in. Do you both understand me?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Good. Get cleaned and dressed. Something darker so we match.”

“Yes, sir.”

Sockets lidded, Sans stepped aside to let Cancell step into the wall and shuffle back towards the room. “I’m watching you two,” he called as he followed Cancell and closed the door. He watched his son huff over to a dresser and pick out a midnight black skirt and sweater.

“Cancell.”

“Sir?”

“You have to keep it in skirts that don’t belong to you, too.”

“Come on, mom!” Cancell sighed.

“I mean it,” Sans retorted. “I’m not ready to be a grandmother. I barely got to enjoy you being a baby!”

“Well…” Cancell glanced up at the ceiling in thought. “If Keep got pregnant, you could---”

“No!” Sans snapped. “Bath! Now!”

“Okay, okay,” Cancell grumbled as he scurried into the bathroom.

Sans sighed before a knock struck at the door. “Coming,” he called as he turned around. Upon approaching and opening the door, he found Undyne standing at the threshold.

“Undyne,” Sans spoke, straightening up. “Did you talk to him?”

She nodded. “He will see you as soon as you are ready. He specifically said he wanted to know everything about Crimson’s injuries.”

Sans nodded in return. “Well, I did want to cover that first. Very well. I’m just waiting for Cancell and Keep to get ready.”

“Of course. The Prince also went to get ready, too.”

“Undyne,” Sans started, gaze shifting to the floor. “Do you think… he’ll let me see Crimson?”

Undyne stared, head tilting. “…How exactly do you know Crimson?”

“We talked through the door. I… I was there when Asgore fought him.”

“Oh…Oh! You’re the one he must have been talking about!” Undyne exclaimed, as if someone had given her a solution to a puzzle she thought had no answer.

Sans looked up at her, sockets narrowing in confusion. “What?”

“After Crimson began to regain consciousness, he kept murmuring that he had to ‘make sure he was okay’,” Undyne explained. “We could never figure out who he was talking about… until now.”

Sans’ sockets widen. “He… was still thinking about me? Even after….”

“Apparently,” Undyne answered with a small smile as she crossed her arms. “I always thought he had a one track mind about some things. I guess that includes you. Hey, keep this between us, okay?” She motioned for Sans to lean closer as she bent down to whisper. “Even if Canary doesn’t let you two see each other, just keep in contact with Alphys. She has a near direct line to me and I can get to Crimson easily enough.”

Sans balked. “You’d do that for me?”

“Of course,” Undyne’s smile grew a bit as she straightened up. “Crimson has helped us all out in one way or another. It’s the least we could do for him.”

Sans couldn’t stop the tears from rolling down his cheekbones.

“He-hey!” Undyne panicked. “What’s with all the tears? I, huh, I don’t have any---” she patted her pouches on her armored thighs. “I don’t have any napkins on me! A-are you going to be okay? Do you need something?”

“I’m just so happy!” Sans tried to dry his cheekbones and failed. The smile, however, didn’t leave his skull.

_He’s been worried about me this whole time! I was so afraid he’d hate me… but he’s been worried about me! Don’t worry, Crimson, no matter what I’ll let you know I’m okay!_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sans, you bonehead, of course Red could never hate you! But it's good to know for sure =3
> 
> Athazagoraphobia- the fear of being ignored (or forgotten/forgetting)


	19. Ereutho

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> He will see you now.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We finally made it.

Cancell stepped out into the hallway. He had decided on a sleek, midnight black suit, matching his mother. Keep exited her room moments later, wearing a nice, black dress. Cancell gave her a smooth smile, signaling something that made her blush.

“Oh, you all look nice,” Alphys spoke as she walked up the hallway. Her white lab coat looked cleaner with fewer wrinkles.

“Are we ready?” Undyne asked, having returned to the doors a few moments ago to get additional information for their introductions.

Sans nodded, though his Soul pulsed at a frantic pace. If this meeting went well, he would see Crimson soon.

Undyne and Alphys led the trio down the hall, around the landing and down the steps to a large set of honeyed double doors which rested in between the two staircases.

Sans took a deep breath, trying to calm his nerves. He relaxed when Cancell squeezed his hand. He then rehearsed a few lines in his head, told himself he would succeed in this, that this wasn’t the first time he would be talking to royalty. He had done so several times. At the core of the matter, this was no different than talking to Toriel or a more sane Asgore.

Before opening the doors, Undyne’s face took on a more stoic appearance. She seemed to have her own way of preparing to meet with her Prince. “I will introduce you first,” she began. “After the Prince sits, you may take a seat in the chairs provided. Understood?”

The trio nodded.

Undyne nodded in return, then pushed opened the doors.

The throne room was the most gorgeous and opulent room Sans had ever seen.

A large, radiant chandelier hung on the ceiling, its crystals casting gleaming sparkles of light around the room, the bumblebee yellow walls glittering like sunlight. A long, wine colored carpet led to the extravagant throne that appeared to be carved from jeweled bone-- garnet, pearl, amethyst, lapis, emerald and gold, all gleaming under the light of the radiant chandelier.

And beside that opulent throne, he stood.

The Prince of The Attic strolled to the front of his throne, towering over everyone from the platform upon which his throne was housed.

Even from his distance, Sans would tell the Prince was a giant, as most Spectrals tended to be. He wore a midnight black chest plate highlighted with medallion yellow strips. He carried the colors through his pants, boots and gloves. His cloak, however, was a proud canary yellow, the bush on the collar a gathering of lavish, brilliant yellow feathers. He wore a small crown atop his skull, the color matching his cloak, the band ringed with jewels echoing his throne. A scepter mimicked his crown in appearance.

His gaze was intense, tall sockets narrow, yellow ankhs (or something akin to that shape) glowing. His fangs were threatening, long and pin sharp.

“Introducing Comic Sans Courier Skeleton, Adviser to Asgore, Cancelleresca Crimson Skeleton, his son and Keepsayk Ombretta. Reporter for Script and Sheet Magazine,” Undyne spoke, voice loud and echoing through the hall. “Also accompanying is Dr. Alphys.”

“The guests may step forward,” Canary spoke. His voice was a higher pitch then Crimson’s, but still just as smooth.

 _All right. Here we go._ Sans breathed and took proud steps forward, leading the two teens behind him only stopping when they reached the chairs.

Only when Canary sat down did Sans follow suit, settling into a cushioned wooden chair. Cancell and Keep sat in the two seats behind him.

Canary rested his scepter against his throne, crossed his legs and rested ringed phalanges on his kneecap. “It is my understanding that you have information of my brother’s injuries.”

“Yes, Prince,” Sans gave a bow of his skull. “I would like to take some responsibility for his injuries.”

Canary straightened up, sockets narrowing. “Continue.”

“I… I was not only the Adviser of Asgore,” Sans started. “For a short time, I was the Queen. I thought… I thought Asgore wanted me to help him lead the Kingdom, but making me Queen was his way of controlling me. The only refuge I had was Crimson. We spoke at the door dividing our kingdoms. Crimson… he warned me not to get too comfortable at the door, but I grew haughty, thinking Asgore would never find me. I was wrong.” Sans paused, gulped down the lump in his throat. “When Asgore opened the door, I told Crimson to run. I knew his magic wouldn’t work upstairs, but he… he fought…. wanting to protect me. He almost died trying to protect me… So.” Sans gripped his pants, hands shaking. He shut his sockets tight to force the tears to remain hidden. “Please,” he breathed. “I wish to take partial responsibility for Crimson’s health. I was the reason he didn’t run when Asgore attacked him--- Crimson stayed because of me. So, I am… asking you, Prince… if I… if I take some of this responsibility, would you please reconsider going to war with The Attic?” Sans breathed down a sob, before looking back at Canary’s stern gave. “There are so many Monsters upstairs that did not know about Asgore’s true nature. They follow him without question because of the hope he falsely promises. They deserve some form of saving, not death. If you must fight Asgore, then so be it, but I am begging you to leave the rest of The Attic out of this confrontation. They are innocent,” Sans finished, straining to keep his voice strong and steady. He didn’t want to show any sort of weakness to Canary, despite the guilt still squeezing at his Soul when he talked about Crimson. However, if this worked, if he could get through to Canary, that guilt could be vanquished for good.

Canary let out a sigh as he leaned back into his throne. He steepled his phalanges, tapping their tips together. His sockets closed and he seemed to go deep in thought for a long moment.

“Sans,” Keep whispered. “I think there’s something wrong with Cancell.”

“What?” Sans turned around. “Cancell?”

The young skeleton was baring his fangs, sharpened phalanges ripping at his pants. His sockets were edged in pulsing red and his glare was set on Canary before looking towards the floor.

“Cancell, what’s---?”

“I’m okay, I’m okay,” the young monster lied, sockets closed tight. “I just have to breath….”

Another sigh filled the room and Sans whipped around to face the front.

“You do realize, if you had introduced yourself as Queen, I would have been more inclined to help you, from a strictly political standpoint,” Canary spoke as his sockets slid open, as his voice remained even.

“Uh, ah… I, I feel it would have been a lie,” Sans answered, trying to control the worry for his son in his voice. “I have not been Queen since I was tossed down here. Admittedly, presenting myself as Adviser and not Former Adviser was a lie. I just wanted to ensure that you would see me. I…,” Sans looked down at his lap. “I needed to apologize for what happened. I know I wasn’t the one who attacked Crimson, but I still hold guilt over being the reason he stayed. I wanted to apologize first before I tried to convince you to stop this war. The Attic is barely hanging on as it is.”

“Yes, I was under that impression when I met Toriel” Canary replied. “And now that brute’s former adviser is here before me,” the skeleton smirked. “I would be foolish not to attempt to strike him down now--- no Guard to defend him, no Adviser to aid him, no Queen to support him. Yes,” Canary nodded as his smirk slid into a deep frown, as his sockets narrowed. “I had entertained the idea of slaughtering his entire kingdom in front of him, just as I had to watch my brother suffer at Death’s door. Do you not think it fair to give the same to Asgore--- to see his rule squirm with ceasing life until it moved no more? I would love to see his Soul ripped apart just as mine was while I watched Crimson cling to a thread of life. And yet….” Canary smirked again. “In my time of planning, Lord Error Himself seems to have sent me a blessing. A little Font who wishes to take responsibility for my brother’s near death. I hope you understand how easily I could abuse this situation.”

Sans grimaced and he could feel Cancell’s Soul started to gnash and growl for Canary’s bones.

“Shh, it’s okay,” Keep whispered to him, moving closer to hold Cancell’s hands. “Stay calm.”

“However, I admire your courage for coming to me and apologizing in person,” Canary admitted. “So, I will give you this: You wish to take responsibility for Crimson’s near death. I grant you that. From now on, until he is healed enough to function on his own, you will attend to all of Crimson’s needs. You are free to ask for assistance, but, in the end, his well-being is in your care. Should he recover nicely then, yes, I agree to limit my rage only to Asgore alone.”

Sans’s sockets widen as his smile grew wide. “Re-really? That’s---”

“No.”

Sans spun around to see Cancell’s pinpoints shaking in the reddening abyss of his sockets. “Cancell!?” Sans stood up. “Love, what’s wrong---?”

“I told you,” he growled. “I was going to be the one to kill Asgore!” He shot up to his feet, startling Keep, her single eye going wide. “It is practically my blood right as his bastard son! No one is killing him but **ME!** And NOTHING is going to stop me, **NOT YOU,** MOTHER, **NOT SOME INSIGNIFICANT WAR** and certainly---” he glared up at Canary. “Not some _little prince.”_

Canary shot to his feet. “Child do you know to whom you speak!? Still your tongue before I change my mind and bring The Attic crumbling atop your head!!”

“Please, just---” Sans begged as he circled his seat to take Cancell’s wrists. “Love, look at me! Look at me!”

“Cancell, please!” Keep called as she stood up to take one of his arms. “Don’t do this! Your mom worked so hard to get here and see Crimson! Whatever this is, we can all talk about it after Crimson is better, all right? Just calm down!”

“But---But!” Cancell growled, sockets closed shut. “I have to be the one to do it! I HAVE TO!” Black magic whipped around Cancell’s feet, tendrils, not hands, squirming out, crawling into the air, knocking over the chairs and forcing Sans and Keep to stumble backward.

“Cancelleresca!” Sans cried. “You need to calm down! You don’t have to do anything to Asgore now! He can’t hurt us anymore! You don’t have----”

“Yes, I DO!” Cancell roared, the tendrils pulsing and flailing.

“Now you don’t!” Sans yelled. “Why do---?”

 **“BECUASE I SAID I WOULD!”** Cancell’s voice crawled from the pits of the earth. The tendrils flared up, crawling along the floor. Sans stared, sockets wide as he watched the tendrils on the floor arch up, as if they were trying to lift something out of the circle of magic. But his attention was drawn away when Cancell started… laughing, a long cackle. His sockets had gone blood red.

“It’ll be perfect,” Cancell hissed. “His bastard child striking him down, leaving only his **DUST!”** His laughing grew louder, his magic pulsing, the tendrils straining to lift something huge and heavy from the circle, while others stretched for the ceiling or slid across the floor, grasping for something to strangle.

Sans didn’t know what to do. Cancell had never lost control like this. His words were always violent, but this was the first time Sans had seen that violence take on such an intense physical form. Sans had to do something though. Though Canary hadn’t given the order, guards were starting to circle his son and Sans knew that once Canary was out of his shock, he would order the attack.

Keep must of known this too, because she began to skip towards Cancell, hopping over the tendrils that nipped at her ankles. Once close enough, she reached through the tendrils that rose into the air, creating a black cage around the skeleton. Hand flat, she reared back as best she could and slapped Cancell against the cheekbone.

The hit seemed to knock some sense back into Cancell as he staggered backward, his magic whipping back into the circle spiraling around his feet. The circle vanished as Cancell’s pinpoints dimmed, his sockets going back to inky black.

He stood there, looking as if he had just walked into the wrong room despite knowing for a fact that he had double checked the room numbers before walking in.

“...What did I just…?” He looked at Keep, who’s single eye was watery, one hand holding the other one that shown bright white in pain; to his mom who stared, bewildered; to the guards, spears pointed at him. “Did I…?” He felt his ribcage, felt his Soul was hot and pulsing. “What… Oh Gods, what did I do!?” Cancell cried. “I don’t…” He held his skull, trying to remember. “We were… talking to Canary about….” His sockets widen. “Oh no… I… I didn’t mean to! I just… I just… I couldn’t…. Oh, Gods, what did I do, what did I do?” Cancell looked around. “Is anyone hurt!? Did I---? Oh, gods….”

“It’s okay….” Sans whispered, coming closer and taking Cancell into his arms. “No one’s hurt, it’s okay.”

Cancell sniffed before collapsing to his knees and burying his face in Sans’ ribcage. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m so sorry. I shouldn’t have… I just… mommy, I have to kill him, for everything he’s done to you, but I don’t want to… I don’t want to lose control like this…. mommy…. I’m scared, I….”

“It’s okay, it’s okay,” Sans whispered, hugging Cancell tight. “We’ll figure it out.”

“Gu-guards, at ease,” Canary managed to croak out. The guards lowered their spears and edged back to the walls of the room. Canary took a deep breath. “…What manner of magic was that?” he demanded.

Sans looked up at Canary. “It…. His soul, it’s… it’s just different, so sometimes it… he’s not always like this, I promise. This is the first time it’s been a problem.”

Canary glared. “I advise you to keep that child under your close gaze.”

“Yes, Prince, of course. Come on, Cancell,”

Cancell pulled himself to his feet, caught a glance of Keep’s wet face. Gods, she had seen him at his absolute worst. “Keep… I… I’m not… I’m sorry, please….”

Keep looked down, rubbing her hand. “I… I think I just need some time to process this. We… we can talk later, I just… I just need to think. Excuse me.” Keep turned away and hurried out of the room.

Cancell could only stare, pinpoints shimmering.

“It’ll be okay, Cancell,” Sans reassured him, leading his son to the doors in a slow walk. “Just give her some space. Do you want to rest in the room for a bit?”

Cancell stopped and looked back at Canary. “My mom can still see Crimson, right? This… this thing with me, it’s not my mom’s fault.”

Canary let out a breath, but nodded. “Undyne, lead them to Crimson.”

Undyne blinked, surprised that Canary hadn’t relented. “Ah, yes, of course, My Prince. Um, this way. Dr. Alphys, I’ll see you later, yes?”

The dinosaur scrubbed at her glasses, a nervous habit. “I, uh… I can’t really say, I had quite the shake up there. Perhaps? Uh….”

Undyne sighed, snarl spreading over her face as her eye narrowed towards the dinosaur. “Right. Of course,” she growled low. “Please follow me,” she called to Cancell and Sans and led them out of the doors, then to the left hand side of the castle, leaving behind Canary and the growing anxiety in his Soul over what he had just seen and rather that child or his mother would be able to handle whatever that magic was.

And indeed, the brief happiness Sans had felt had been swallowed by doubt and fear. He knew Cancell’s Soul made him more prone to violence, but he had done so well thus far. He had only cracked when his prey had been threatened.

 _I’ll have to find a way to help Cancell work through this…._ Sans thought. _I’m supposed to be his anchor, I have to help him stay calm and not be eaten up by his anger and hate towards Asgore. …Oh… wait…._ Sans slowed to a stop. _Hate…. Oh, Gods, was this because I…? No, no…. I never should have---_

“Mom?” Cancell called.

Sans looked up from the tiled floor. “Oh… I’m sorry, I just…. Sorry.” Sans rubbed his skull as he began to follow Undyne again to a white door labeled Recovery Area.

“He’s just through here,” she spoke as she opened the door. The hallway was short, but full of natural light. Undyne led the two past a room that had a pair of parallel bars and a table covered in puzzles. Farther down the hall was a single door.

“This is his room for now,” Undyne explained. “Good luck,” she smiled. With that, the fish retreated back down the hall.

Sans gulped. He was here. After all this time, after all the walking and running, a bit of screaming and a lot more hospitality, he was here. Right on the other side of this door was the monster he wanted to see the most in all of The Basement.

He reached out and knocked.

“Come in.”

Another gulp, hands trembling, Sans cracked open the door. He peeked into the room, a small, white space also brimming with natural light, the daisy white curtain bellowing in the wind.

Red was sitting up in the hospital bed, skull turned to the window, bandages all too visible. His bones looked darker, maybe now ivory or even parchment in shade, not the porcelain white of most skeletons.

Sans found he could only stare until Cancell gave him a reassuring push, coaxing him to walk in. The tiny skeleton edged into the room. “Cr… Crimson?”

Red perked up and turned around, movement slow and deliberate.

Sans stared at the bandages that not only wrapped around Red’s skull, but covered one of his sockets, the other one holding a hot pink ankh-shaped pinpoint. He could see lines of red scratched into Red’s skull just below the bandaged socket. His arm bones had similar markings. In fact, the bones appeared thinner now that Sans could see them from the front.

Sans tried not to let them, but fresh tears pooled in his sockets. He wasn’t sure what he had been expecting, but… this wasn’t what he had wanted to see. Red was a Spectral, the toughest and strongest of the skeletal species. He shouldn’t be bandaged up, his bones shouldn’t be so thin and baring scars.

Sans sniffed. “Cr-Crimson….”

Red squinted. “…Little Font?”

“I’m so sorry!” Sans cried and spun around. He pushed past Cancell, surprising him, and bolted down the hall.

“Mom, wait!” Cancell cried after him. “What are you---? Dammit!” Cancell turned back to Red, who only stared, confused. “Can you walk?”

Red nodded. “Not too good. I got a wheelchair in the closet,” he pointed to a door across from the foot of the bed.

Cancell dashed over and threw open the door. He pulled out the wheelchair, dragged the chair over to Red and began to unfold the mechanical contraption. “We have gone through the entire Basement to find you! My mom argued with his Queen, we saw fucking ghosts, some shadow bastard wanted to trade me for a piece of damn rock and I might have screwed up everything with my potential girlfriend! This place is like some low level ring of Hell: constantly fucking frustrating! But we finally made it all the way up to your fucking bedroom! I will be DAMNED if you and my mom don’t have words! Get in!!”

Red gave a startled nod and pulled himself over to the edge of the bed. Cancell helped him lift himself into the chair, released the brakes and began to push Red out of the room and down the hall.

“Do ya think he went outside?” Red asked.

“Maybe?” Cancell replied, unsure. “He could have gone back upstairs, but there’s no ramp for you.”

“Ain’t one outside either, so I’m screwed either way here. At least you can push me outside on tha steps and we can look around.”

Cancell turned left once the two reached the Grand Hall and pushed Red down the Great Hall to the double doors, which were cracked open. Red pushed a door open farther as the two approached them and found Sans sobbing on the first step.

“Little Font!” Red called.

Sans jumped and twisted around, face wet. “Cr… Crimson, I… I’m so sorry….”

Red wheeled himself next to Sans. “Sorry fer what?”

“I didn’t run when you told me!” Sans cried. “I wasn’t careful after all the warnings you gave me! It’s because of me that you….” Sans cried into his hands. “S-Seeing you in th-those bandages, with your b-bones covered in wounds, I, I just co-couldn’t…. I… I’m so sorry,” he sobbed.

Red leaned down and took Sans’ skull in his hands. He guided the tiny skeleton to look up at him. “What happened t’me ain’t yer fault, Little Font. I never once blamed ya fer this. All I wanted was fer ya t’be safe.”

Sans stared and a wave of relief washed over him right down to his Soul. He knew, he knew Red never blamed him, was even worried about him, but hearing him say those words….

Sans burst into fresh tears, the reprieve and happiness too much for him to hold. He sobbed against Red’s femur, shoulders shaking as Red rubbed his shoulder blades.

“Little Font, Red whispered, leaning down closer. “I’m so glad ya okay. I thought Asgore…. Gods, I was terrified when I woke up…. I... I didn’t….” This time Red gave a little sniff.

“I’m… I’m okay,” Sans whispered back. “Now that I know you’re okay, I’m all right.” He smiled when Red rested his skull on his.

Cancell released a huge sigh. “Gods, finally. Mission accomplished,” he whispered to himself as he turned around only to stop short.

Keep was pacing down the hall and stopped mid step when she saw Cancell at the door. Her eye widen before she glanced away, then turned around and hurried back to the Grand Hall.

“Ke-Keep, wait!” Cancell called and raced after her.

Red looked behind him. “Who is that kid? Ya know him?”

“Oh,” Sans blinked, realization hitting like a brick to the face. “Oh, Crimson….” he whispered. Sans took his hand, attracting Red’s attention.

Red’s visible socket arched. “Little Font, what…?”

Sans leaned in close and just… talked. He talked for a long time, about what he had gone through from the moment Red had been thrown downstairs all the way to his’ own fall. When Red pulled back and rest his skull in his hands, Sans stopped talking.

After a long silence, Red whispered. “I’m sorry.”

“Crimson….” Sans returned in his own whisper.

“If I just just… dammit, but I couldn’t just--- Fuck, fuck, fuck!” he bared his fangs. “Stayin’ or runnin’, that fucker had tha upper hand either way!” His fists slammed onto the wheelchair’s hand rest. “Gods DAMMIT!” he roared. “If I could walk, I’d march right up those damn steps and wait for him to open tha door so I could beat the shit outta him with mah bare fists!”

“Crimson, please,” Sans rested his hands on Red’s. “I already had to talk Canary out of raging an entire war against The Attic. I don’t want to have a similar conversation with you.”

Red blinked. “He was gonna fight tha whole Attic ‘cause of what happened t’ me?”

Sans nodded. “Your brother cares about you a lot, Crimson. But, I was able to talk him down.” Sans looked to the ground, a slight blush blooming over his cheekbones. “He said if I take care of you myself, to make up for my own guilt, then he would only fight Asgore.”

Red blushed as well. “Oh…. And… ya, uh… agreed to that?”

“Of course!” Sans replied without hesitation, sockets wide, pinpoints shimmering.

“B-but, I don’t blame ya fer anythin’!” Red shot. “If anythin’, I was t’blame! If I had just taken off---”

“Look, we both made mistakes,” Sans interrupted, not wanting to get into another circle of blame. “So, let’s both focus on your recovery. That way, Canary will only go after Asgore and spare the rest of The Attic. Oh, but….” Sans looked down again, sockets arching. “That brings up another problem….” He looked into the Grand Hall of the castle. “Cancell….”

Of course, Sans couldn’t see his son since he was now upstairs, standing in front of Keep’s room.

She had, more or less, locked herself in, still frightened.

She was afraid of Cancell.

He couldn’t blame her.

He hesitated to knock. _I can’t believe this. The moment I thought I wouldn’t be able to kill Asgore, I just lost control. And not only of myself, but my magic. I can’t really remember, but it was different, something heavier. Dammit._ Cancell bared his fangs and closed his sockets tight. ‘ _I could have seriously fucked things up for mom! What the fuck is wrong with me!? What do I even do!? How do I control this…?_ He clenched at his rib cage, over his pulsing Soul, could still feel the angry heat wisping around. _I have to figure this out. What if I end up hurting someone I care about…? What if I…?_

He looked towards the door. “Keep,” Cancell spoke. “I’m sorry I scared you. But I’m going to figure out how to control this. I don’t want to hurt you or anyone else I care about.”

The door cracked open and a single red eye, shimmering with tears, peeked out. “… I’m sorry I’m making this difficult,” came a low whisper.

“Don’t apologize!” Cancell spoke. “I’d be scared too if someone I knew suddenly went all… well… you know…. What I’m trying to say is that I don’t blame you for being scared, but I’m going to fix this. I promise.”

“But do you even know where to start?”

Cancell edged closer to the crack. “Don’t worry about that. Just… take your time, okay? I’ll come check on you later.”

“Al-all right.”

Cancell leaned away and the door closed with a soft clicked. He shoved his hands into his pockets and began down the hall. ‘If I can kill Asgore before anyone else, that should calm down my Soul, right? I don’t know how I’ll do it yet, but the next time I lose myself, Asgore will be the only one to see it,’ Cancell promised to himself, sockets flooding red for long seconds.     

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh, Cancell.... I'm sorry for all of this. :(
> 
> Ereuthophobia- the fear of the color red


	20. Spasmenagalia

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You need to know that you can't.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Heyo everyone. Now that Sans and Red are back together, we get to spend some chapters seeing this relationship begin to bloom=3 I remember trying to figure out exactly how long I wanted to spend on this little venture and I knew with the end winding down, I had to pick what I really wanted to focus on carefully. Since the two have only talked in person twice before now, I didn't want to rush them into something hot and heavy. So, I thought, let's just focus on the beginning of the relationship and not only that, but Red coming to terms with what he can do after his injuries. Sans had the spotlight for a while, so let's give Red some time to grow. It would be a shorter track for us, as he's had time to come to terms with things while Sans was running around, but it's that final hurdle to acceptance that remains to be challenged.

“All right, let’s take a look,” Sans spoke. Standing in front of Red, he reached up and began to unwrap the bandages twisting around the Spectral’s skull.

Red, sitting at the bed’s edge, remained quiet.

When Sans finished removing the bandages, he could only give a wide stare. Red’s socket was cracked; deep, narrow crevices spreading from his socket to his forehead and temple. Fathomless gashes of wine red crisscrossed under his socket, as if his magic had tried to heal the wounds only to get stuck inside the injury itself.

The socket held no light, just inky darkness.

Sans gulped. “Can you… see out of it?”

Red looked down at the tiled floor. “No, it… it won’t… the magic won’t stay in there, just… leaks out.”

“Leaks out,” Sans murmured. “So, the magic in the gashes…. Hm, I see.” Sans then turned his attention to Red’s other socket. The ankh was a hot pink color, as if the magic in this socket was trying to overcompensate for the empty one.

“How well can you see out of this one?” Sans asked.

“’Bout as well as before, ‘cept….” Red looked around. “I think the details are a little sharper?”

Sans nodded. “Just as I thought. This socket is overcompensating. It’s had several weeks to get used to your situation. I imagine at this point, it’s probably going to always look and act like this. You’ll have to start relying on your hearing more since you have a larger blind spot now. I would suggest just closing your sockets and taking in your surroundings with just sound. In time, you should be able to differentiate between “normal” sounds and anything out of place so you can be more aware of any change that could indicate danger.”

Red nodded. “How ya know so much ‘bout this kinda stuff, Little Font?”

“Oh!” Sans blushed. “Well, my father was a scientist. He mostly studied Souls in an attempt to find a way to break the barrier. But, he also taught my brother and I about skeletons, especially since we were the only ones around.”

Red murmured in reply.

“Speaking of skeletons, I don’t recall seeing any of them,” Sans noted. “I thought I’d see them all over the place considering all the Spectrals got shuffled down here.”

“Oh, they’re around,” Red rolled a hand. “Just sort of… hidden. They keep to themselves a lot. A few of ‘em are guards, so if ya ever see a guard in full armor, mostly likely a skeleton underneath all that metal. They hang out in all tha secret walls and rooms of tha castle, too. But, ya didn’t hear that from me,” Red held up a finger to his smirking fangs.

Sans smiled, then noticed one of Red’s fangs was replaced by a gold replica. Sans found the look suited Red. His gaze shifted down and he noticed how thin Red’s leg bones were. No wonder he needed a wheelchair--- there was no way such thin bones would support his massive pelvis and rib cage.

“Hm,” Sans kneaded his hands. He really wanted to touch them--- just to exam them, like any doctor would.

“What is it?” Red asked.

“I, uh… wanted to… exam your leg bones,” Sans admitted. “Only if you’re all right with it, of course!” He tacked on half a second later.

“Oh,” Red gave a small blush. “I… I guess that’s okay….”

Sans gave a reassuring smile and stepped back to give Red a bit more space. He then rested his hands on Red’s left femur. His tiny hands didn’t quite fit around the entire bone, but he didn’t like how close they were when he placed them opposite each other. The bone itself was darker than usual, like dried parchment. The Font could feel the thousands of cuts across the bone, ripped into by Asgore’s fire. He felt as if he was running his hands over paper that had thousands of lines carved into its surface by a pressing pencil.

Sans let his phalanges trail down to Red’s kneecap. He squatted to get a better look. The patella was worn, but didn’t appear as small as Sans had feared. He flexed Red’s lower leg to test its placement. A little stiff, but nothing too worrisome. He moved to the fibula and tibia. These bones were also much thinner than what would be considered normal for a Spectral--- a dowel of wood where a beam of solid steel should be.

“They, um… got a little better,” Red informed the tiny skeleton.

Sans glanced up. “Were they smaller than this?”

Red nodded. “Doc said I looked like a stick figure when he first saw me. Like someone had painted thick, black lines on tha bed sheets. Said any other type of skeleton woulda died….” Red looked down into his lap, twiddled his phalanges. “With all tha pain I was in when I woke up… sometimes, I wished I had died. I ain’t never hurt like that before. Even thinkin’ hurt…. But sometimes, tha reason I wish fer it wasn’t just ‘cause of tha pain. I… I really thought Asgore… killed ya.”

Sans straightened up, couldn’t see Red’s sockets since his skull was down, but he could see tears dotting his shorts.

“I thought… ‘I killed him. He’s dead ‘cause of me. ‘Cause I didn’t kill Asgore, ‘cause I didn’t run when he told me--- but, how could I run, knowin’ he was with that psycho? I had t’do somethin’… but it must have gotten him killed now, right?’ I kept askin’ everyone where ya were, kept sayin’ I had t’make sure ya were okay, but, I was crazy with pain, ya know? They didn’t know who I was talkin’ ‘bout. And Canary told me not t’talk, just get better and some days, it hurt too much t’talk. Some days I just slept… I’d dream of ya.”

Sans blushed.

Red looked up at the ceiling. “Ya were… under a tree… and ye were wearin’ somethin’ like a ball gown….”

The blush brighten. “A ball gown?”

Red looked down at Sans, scratched his cheekbone. “Well, yeah, I guess so. It had all these frilly layers and ya had on a sort of crown with a veil attached. And ya were writin’ somethin’, too.”

Sans looked down, tiny hands coming to his face. “Writing something…. What was it?”

“Don’t know,” Red shrugged. “Every time I tried t’get closer, tha dream would end. Couldn’t figure out out if it meant ya were dead, or maybe ya were somewhere safer… without me…” Red murmured, skull lowering again.

Sans reached up and stroked Red’s skull. He could feel Red shaking as tears dotted his shorts again. Sans stepped closer and Red reached up with his arms, circling them around Sans as the smaller skeleton rested against Red’s massive ribcage. Sans felt safe in such strong bones, safer than he did at Toriel’s cottage.

‘It’s okay, I’m here,’ Sans clacked with his teeth.

Red rattled his ribs, not answering with exact words, but with the skeletal sound of contentment. He held Sans closer.

“It’s okay,” Sans whispered. “I’m not going anywhere.”

“...Yer son needs ya.”

“Cancell can take care of himself for the most part, I just have to make sure he’s keeping his temper in check,” Sans turned to the door. “He is supposed to be ‘under my gaze’ as your brother said, but I thought he would want some time to himself after what happened between him and Keep….” Sans tapped his chin. “…Maybe I should make sure he’s okay….”

Red gave a small smile as he unwrapped his arms from around Sans.

“I’ll be right back,” Sans promised before padding out of the room and closing the door.

Moments later, the door opened again.

“What’s… oh, big brother,” Red remarked.

Canary strolled in, cloak bellowing behind him.

Red bowed his skull and Canary bowed his in return. As Princes, they were on equal standing, Red just didn’t have the talent (or attention span) for administrative work like Canary did. Red was very much a “monster-person.”

“Sans is on his way t’see Cancell,” Red spoke.

“I saw him and he told me as much,” Canary replied. “I’m actually glad for the timing. I wanted to talk to you about that Font and also about your future.”

Red cocked a brow bone. “Mah future?”

Canary tapped a set of phalanges atop his other hand which was curled around the top of his scepter, his nervous signal for “I’m about to talk to you about something you are not going to like.” “Brother, I have talked to the doctors again. As you know, they believe your recovering process won’t go much farther than this. That said, it would be unwise to allow you to continue shepherding fallen Monsters.”

“WUT!?” Red cried. “But that’s mah job!”

“Be reasonable, Crimson,” Canary replied, keeping his voice down. “Even with a cane, that walk is too far. On top of that, you have a visual disadvantage and we don’t know how well your magic works now. Your Soul was also severely damaged by Asgore’s Intent.”

“I was born down here! Intent don’t affect me!”

“Spectrals were originally of The Attic. Intent was a part of them and it is a part of us as their descendants,” Canary informed. “It is only Monsters born of The Basement with no prior connection to The Attic that have no concept of Intent. But, I digress. It it too dangerous to have you continue your original job.”

“Who tha hell’s gonna take mah place!?” Red demanded. “Not Toriel! She ain’t a fighter like me! Winter will tear her up!”

“Not Toriel,” Canary reassured. “I was hasty in assigning her your job. I will be relieving her of the task as soon as I have made final preparations for Undyne and a group of A-Class Soldiers to take over. Toriel will keep any fallen monster at her cottage until that group arrives.”

“What tha hell am I supposed t’do!?” Red shouted. “Brother, this job… this was all I had! Ya can’t just---”

“I understand that,” Canary replied, sockets arching. “But, brother, please look at the facts: Your vision is halved, you’re still using the wheelchair,” he motioned to the brown chair in the corner. “You just got across the balance beam without assistance two days ago and yet your legs are still feeble. You will need a cane or a walker and, as you put it ‘Winter will eat you up’ if they see you hobbling along. It would be asking for Death to walk hand in hand with you to let you walk such a distance alone or let you traverse Winter in such a state. Even with a guard, you’re still a liability.”

“Well… _maybe_ if ya did yer job and actually _made_ Winter safer,” Red muttered.

Canary narrowed his sockets.

“Oooh, did I hit a sore spot?” Red pushed.

“You know full well I did what I could for Winter. I cannot help those who refuse aid.”

“But if they’re such a problem, it’s yer job as Prince t’do somethin’ ‘bout it!” Red countered. “Ya know that sort of shit I’ve seen out there, Canary!?”

Canary’s sockets lidded. “You know, brother, I am not the only Prince here.”

Red blinked, fangs shifting before his sockets narrowed.

“Perhaps you can use your status to help Winter now that your body has been reduced in functionality. A pen can be just as powerful as a Needle if used correctly.”

“Oh, give me a break,” Red grumbled. “They didn’t want yer help, what makes ya think they’ll take mine?”

“You’ve been there more than I have,” Canary answered. “You can provide a voice they may find easier to connect with.”

Red blew a puff of air from his fangs. “This is bullshit! I’m supposed t’just sit around all day and write laws and decrees and shit!? I can’t! I’m not like ya, Canary!”

“Then perhaps you could acquire the aid of that Font.”

“Sans?” Red questioned before his sockets widen. “Hey, wait a minute! What’s tha deal, makin’ him nurse me back t’health, ‘specially when we both know the docs said I ain’t gonna get no better than this!?”

“I wanted to test his resolve,” Canary answered. “I wanted to see how far he’d go to relieve himself of his misguided guilt. I wanted to see how true he was to you.”

Red blushed. “… Don’t talk like that.”

Canary chuckled. “Talk like what?”

“Like ya tryin’ t’set us up or somethin’!” Red cried. “‘How true he is t’me.’ We ain’t datin’. We’re just two skeletons that got… I don’t know, caught up with tha other one’s problems.”

Canary’s lidded gaze didn’t leave his brother’s blushing face. “If Asgore had just pushed you down the stairs and closed the door, would you have gone after the Font?”

“Of course I would have!” Red shot without hesitation. “I mean, I… I probably would have done that fer anyone! I ain’t gonna leave no one there after seein’ first hand how crazy that goat is--- hell, I don’t need t’see it! I’ve _heard_ it, from all the other unlucky bastards he tossed. But he did Sans worst than anyone else who’s ended up down here!”

Canary cocked a brow bone. “…What do you mean?”

Red glared. “Ya met that kid, right? Three guesses on who tha dad is. One guess on rather it was consensual or not.”

Canary’s sockets wide and he stumbled backward as if Red’s words had literally hit him. “No…,” he whispered. “I knew he was cruel, a dictator, murderer, but… Ah, that’s why the little one… and he even said… yes, I see… that puts things into a new perspective.”

“Wha’cha gettin’ at over there?” Red asked.

Canary stepped closer. “The little one is dead set on killing Asgore.”

“Well, can ya blame him?”

“You do not understand, Crimson,” Canary started. “His Soul… it’s… it’s different. It _craves_ this, brother, to the point that anyone even saying something similar is enough for his Soul to burst with anger. His magic is not of The Basement or The Attic. Asgore’s monstrous act is personified in that child, right down to his magic. Raw force and control in physical form.”

“Don’t say shit like that!” Red spat. “Seriously, Canary, what the hell!? Callin’ a kid the personification of Soul Rape!!”

“You did not see what I saw, brother!” Canary spoke. “Not only the rage, but the glee of killing that dictator. He relished the idea of doing so. I fear what may happen to that child, to his Soul, if is allowed to bathe in Asgore’s Dust.”

“If Asgore’s the only one he wants to kill, it really shouldn’t be a problem, right?”

“We don’t know what will happen to him after that, though,” Canary replied.

“He’s right, Crimson,” Sans’ voice murmured from the cracked open door.

The two Spectrals jumped at his voice, Canary spinning around as Sans edged his way inside.

“Adviser!” the taller Prince called. “I… my apologies. This is something I should be discussing only with you, isn’t it?”

Sans closed the door and sighed. He decided to just finish out the conversation. “Cancell’s Soul is prone to violence. He may calm down after Asgore is killed, but there’s a chance he may become more riled up. I don’t know.”

“But if someone else kills Asgore, he’s definitely gonna snap!” Red countered.

“Cancell may well snap after he kills Asgore himself,” Sans replied.

“And leaving Asgore alive assures the child becomes a time bomb,” Canary added.

Red growled. “Why does that dick always have tha upper hand over us!? What sick god is protectin’ him anyways!?”

Canary only sighed at Red’s outburst. “Where is the little one?”

“In the study, reading about Talismans,” Sans answered.

“I see…,” Canary tapped his chin in thought. “He may want to lure Asgore down here. Use Talismans against him. This gives us time to think of something.”

“Perhaps being there at the fight will be enough to calm him.” Sans suggested. “He also reacted to Keep slapping him.”

“Oh, and how is she?” Canary asked.

“A little shaken up,” Sans answered. “She… doesn’t know about Cancell’s Soul. I suggested that he tell her in a few days when she’s calmed down.”

“A good idea,” Canary nodded. “In the meantime….” Canary’s stern gaze settled on Sans. “I will ultimately have to leave the child’s fate to you, as you are his mother. But, please understand, that if I believe he is becoming a threat to my kingdom, to The Basement itself, I will have to do what I must.”

“Canary, ya can’t be serious!” Red snapped. “At least give Sans a chance to talk him down first!”

“Of course,” Canary spoke as he turned to head towards the door. “There will be talking until he becomes a threat. **Then, there will be no more talking.”** And with that, Canary left the room and closed the door.

“Gods, fuck that pile of bones,” Red grumbled. “He’s so…I can’t even find words t’describe how much he pisses me off sometimes!” The Spectral then turned his attention to Sans’ downcast face. “Hey, come here, my little Font.”

Sans shuffled into Red’s arms.

“It’s gonna be okay, my little Font. Cancell will be okay.”

Sans sniffed and nodded. “It’s my fault…,” he whispered. “I told him to…. If I had just loved him more, told him to just love, then maybe he wouldn’t be… I’m a terrible mother….”

“Shhh,” Red whispered. “Ya just did tha best ya could in a shit situation and that’s what we’re gonna have t’keep doin’ til we fix this.”

Sans only nodded and sniffed again.

After a few moments, Red gulped. “…I, uh, hate t’change tha subject like this, but, how much of our conversation did ya hear?”

Sans pulled away and dried his sockets. “Just the part about Cancell. Why?”

Red looked to the side, hand to his fangs. He seemed to be nibbling a knuckle as he thought.

“...Crimson? Is everything okay?” Sans asked.

Red nodded. “Ye-yeah, just… Hm, Canary was just tellin’ me how much help I would need. It’s a lot. I… I really want t’be able to walk by mahself again, ya know?”

“Well, of course,” Sans smiled. “However, we do have to stay realistic about your recovery. You need honest right now, not false hope. If the doctor says you might need a cane… well, just prepare for that possibility, all right?”

 _Oh, thank ya fer twistin’ that knife in deeper, Lord Error. I really needed that last sting,_ Red thought as he forced a smile on his skull. “O-of course! Right. I’m… totally all about honesty!” _(ya fuckin’ liar!)_ “No false hope here!” _(that is literally all ya ridin’ on right now! What, ya think yer brother would just lie t’you ‘bout this!?)_

“Well, then,” Sans spoke, still smiling. “It’s been quite the day for us, so I think taking it easy will be in our best interest right now. May I sit beside you?”

“Sure!” Red replied a bit too loud. “Uh, I mean, yeah, ‘course, go ahead.”

“Thank you,” Sans nodded as he pulled himself into the bed. “Oh, this is comfy. Even better than Toriel’s bed.”

“...She doin’ okay?”

“She….” Sans rubbed the back of his skull. “She’s as okay as she can be. She supports the war if that means Asgore dies.”

“Damn,” Red muttered. “Well… if we lure him down here, if Cancell takes him out himself, we won’t even have t’worry ‘bout a war,” Red gave a nervous grin.

“Right. I just have to make sure my son doesn’t lose his sanity,” Sans replied with a sad smile.

Red’s grin fell. “Hey, don’t worry. It’ll be okay. I didn’t talk t’him fer long, but… I don’t know, he just seems like a good kid.”

“He is!” Sans spoke, looking up at Red. “He has kept me so grounded, even when the things he said made situations more difficult, he was always there for me. He reassured me so many times that… that what happened to you… wasn’t my fault.”

Red rested a hand on Sans’. “He’s right, ya know.”

Sans blushed at the gentle smile on Red’s face. He squeezed Red’s hand, blushed harder when the Spectral brought his tiny hand to those fangs.

“I really didn’t blame ya.”

“I… I know….”

“And...,” Red looked down at Sans, sockets arched. “Ya don’t… ya don’t blame me fer….”

“For…? Oh!” Sans’ sockets widen, free hand coming to his teeth. “Oh, Crimson, no, never.” He moved his hand to a scarred cheekbone. “You didn’t tell or make Asgore hurt me like that and even if you had ran, he would have hurt me all the same. But, I wouldn’t have blamed you either way. I could at least find happiness in knowing you were safe.”

Red sniffed, brought Sans’ hand to his fangs again, wrapped his massive hand over the smaller one touching his cheek. He shook, sockets closed tight as tears dripped.

Sans leaned up and tapped his teeth against Red’s forehead, a reassuring gesture of understanding and friendship.

Red sobbed, body shaking.

Sans tapped his forehead again, let the tap longer.

Affection and support.

Longer still….

Something akin to love….

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A really bad feeling is knowing you can't and still believing you can. 
> 
> Spasmenagaliaphobia- the fear of broken glass.
> 
> You have to clean it up at some point, Red.


	21. Kakorrhaphio

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You have every right to be emotional.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You want some emotional, fluffy Kustard? Oh, I didn't know I could write such nice fluff. I pride myself on smut, but writing fluff is quite nice and fun. =3

“Good morning, Crimson.”

Red smiled. “Mornin’, Little Font. Oh… ya brought, uh… Mini Font with ya.”

“Cancell is fine,” the teen grumbled, pinpoints shifting. There was a hint of blush on his cheekbones, as if he was embarrassed by Red’s nickname for him.

Sans smiled. He was happy the two seemed to be getting along so far. “You’ve eaten already, correct?” he asked Red. “Would you like to go to the balance beams for a while?”

“Yeah, sure,” Red replied as he tossed his blankets aside. Using his hands, Red moved his legs to the edge of the bed. He hated how he couldn’t just get them to move on their own, even after being awake for a few hours. He would sometimes even scream at them to move, twitch, anything, but they just laid there, like dead fish washed up on a beach.

With a disappointed grunt, Red slid forward to the edge of the bed as Cancell pushed the wheelchair closer. The Spectral glared at the mechanical seat. Another thing he hated, that mobile piece of furniture. A reminder of his immobility. He hated the tan seat, so thin that his pelvis ached. The silver shine of the wheels were too bright, like a beacon of caution to everyone to move out of the way, not because of Red’s stature or power or status; no, move because the dumb skeleton didn’t run when he should have, move because he needs room for the dumb chair, he needs room for his arms to move back and forth as he wheels himself down the hall. Move for the immobile, stubborn, fake hero idiot.

“Can I try a cane?” Red asked, breaking the growing silence.

Sans cocked a brow bone. “…Let me go see if I can find a doctor. They’d know more than I would about exactly what you need right now.”

Red nodded and Sans turned to head out the door, leaving Cancell in the room.

A moment later, Cancell asked, “Did he tell you?”

Red stared up at the teen. Geez, he was tall, not quite as tell as Canary, but Red was sure the kid cleared his ribcage at least. “Tell me what?”

“About who…,” Cancell looked away, arms crossed. “...sired me.”

Red’s fangs shifted. He could see a flicker of both rage and embarrassment in Cancell’s piercing pinpoints. “He told me, yeah.”

Cancell sighed, lids of arched sockets lowering . “I wonder how many others will find out before her….”

Her? Oh, that girl from yesterday….

Red had assumed the two were friends, but judging by Cancell’s expression---tired and sullen--- she could have been more than that.

…Maybe he had wanted her to be more than that, but now she knew….

Knew what exactly?

Cancell’s choice of words made him sound as if he still hadn’t told this girl anything.

“...Well, what does she know?”

Cancell looked down and clenched his dress coat. “She saw me lose control. She was there when my mom said my Soul was “different,” so she probably knows something is wrong with it.”

“Ain’t nothing wrong with ya Soul,” Red countered. “Is different, yeah. Don’t mean nothing’s wrong with it.”

Cancell closed his sockets. “When I see her scared face, it _feels like something’s wrong with it.”_

“She scared ‘cause it’s different, makes ya act different,” Red spoke. “Ya gotta show her that just ‘cause it makes ya act weird, it don’t mean it’s bad. Yer Soul is just a reflection of ya. It don’t dictate what ya do. _Ya_ decide what ya wanna do, who ya wanna be, not yer Soul. Yer Soul is just a mirror. _Ya control tha reflection.”_

Cancell gave Red a stern glance before looking back towards the door. He crossed his arms. “What exactly are your intentions with my mother?”

 _Okay, wow, talk ‘bout changin’ the subject,_ Red thought with a blush. “I… I mean, I ain’t trying t’… I’m not… courtin’ him or nothin’ like that.”

“So, you see him as a friend?”

“’Course!” Red replied without a second thought. “I guess… I was also kinda his… informant? I told him a lot ‘bout The Basement. He told me stuff ‘bout The Attic. I… told him t’be careful, ya know? I was worried ‘bout Asgore findin’ him in that room….”

“And when he did, you tried to fight him.”

“Yeah.”

“Even though you knew your magic doesn’t work upstairs.”

“Yeah.”

“But you fought anyway, without hesitation.”

“...There was a little,” Red admitted. “When ya mom was screamin’ at me t’run. But, when Asgore hurt him… I couldn’t _not_ do nothin’, ya know?”

Cancell nodded. “And what are your plans now?”

“I wanna get better, enough t’get back t’mah work,” Red answered.

“And your plans involving my mother?”

Again, Red blushed, fangs shifting over each other. “I… I mean, look, we only talked twice before we saw each other again! I wasn’t… I haven’t been… He’s a friend!”

. _..Even though yesterday he put his teeth on mah forehead a little longer than a friend woulda… And I didn’t have no problem with it…. Wait, why didn’t I have no problem with it!?_

“Crimson, I brought a doctor,” Sans called from the door. He walked in, Alphys following with a smile.

Red rolled his pinpoint. “Ya ain’t no doctor, Alphys.”

“Au contraire,” Alphys waved off. “Just think of me as a… back up, of sorts. Your regular doctor is busy examining the guards--- monthly physical and all that. So, I have come in his place. I have read all of your files, and….” Alphys fiddled with the clipboard in her hands. “If I can be honest, I don’t think you’re ready for a cane.”

Red glared. “Why tha hell not?”

“The bones of your lower limbs are one-fourth the size they need to be in order to support someone of your stature. A cane is not going to be enough to offset that. Now, a walker might---”

“Walkers are fer old people!” Red spat.

Alphys glared, readjusted her glasses. “Walkers are for anyone whose lower limbs can no longer support them adequately. If you do not want a wheelchair, we can try a walker, but you will not be able to use a cane.”

“...Will I ever be able t’use one?” The question made Red’s Soul churn. _Why am I torturin’ mahself like this. I already know I won’t… I won’t be able t’…._

“I…” Alphys started, glancing at Sans and Cancell. She looked back at Red, eyebrows arching. “Crimson, the files say that you and your brother have already talked about how far you will be able to realistically go. I-”

“Just giver me tha damn walker!” Red growled. Despite his harsh words, his sockets arched, the good one threatening with tears.

This wasn’t fair… **This wasn’t fair!** Red had never been so… helpless like this.

He looked at the walker Alphys had brought in from what Red had decided had to be one of the levels of his own personal Hell. He glared at the contraption, Soul revolting with quick pulses. A dull, stony gray with darker stoppers on the feet.

Cancell pulled the wheelchair back from the bed so Alphys could maneuver the walker in front of Red’s dead fish leg bones.

With a sigh, Red reached out for the handles of the walker.

Cold.

Plastic.

Foreign.

He pushed himself up with a grunt, let all his weight settled on his arms and the walker.

Now, all he had to do was lean back on his feet….

…He couldn’t feel them.

 _No, no, not again, please,_ he begged his body, sockets closed. _Don’t do this! I walked between those fuckin’ beams just two days ago. Wake up!_

Nothing.

The doctor had warned him that his legs may lose feeling with so little magic reaching them. The fire had burned Red with such intensity that the flames had damaged his Soul. He wasn’t able to move his magic through his body as well anymore. Even when he concentrated, his Soul just wouldn’t---or couldn’t--- respond the way he wanted.

That day on the beams must have been a fluke.

 _Dammit, dammit!_ Red bared his fangs and sat back down on the bed. His hands came to both sockets, even though only one of them was able to pour tears. “I can’t…,” he whispered. “ Can’t feel my legs. Can’t get mah magic t’… dammit.”

Sans took over, moving aside the walker and resting comforting hands on Red’s cheekbones. “It’s okay,” he whispered. “It’s okay.”

“I think a Soul examination is in order,” Alphys suggested. “Perhaps we can work around this.”

Red murmured as Sans nodded. Cancell was the only one who didn’t respond. He had seen enough of Asgore’s aftermath for the day.

“I’m going to the library,” the younger skeleton spoke as he whipped around and marched out of the room, not bothering to wait for his mother to reply.

Sans could only look after his son before refocusing on Red again.

Still sniffing, Red drew out his Soul.

The sight pained Sans.

Red’s Soul was far too small for someone of his age and species. His Soul should have been about the size of a grapefruit, but instead, the heart shape fit in the metacarpals of Sans’ hand with ease, as if he was holding a small trinket.

Sans could make out the charcoal black edges of Red’s Soul where Asgore’s fire had burned away the layers of magic. His Soul was also a hot shade of pink, but Sans didn’t think Red’s Soul was trying to overcompensate. So much of his magic had been burnt away that the color had lighten.

“Gods Above and Below,” Sans whispered. “Oh, Crimson….” The tiny skeleton cradled the Soul like the delicate object the heart was, like the first time he held Cancell.

“Well,” Alphys began. “I can see why your body is not reacting. Your Soul just cannot spare the magic. You may have just happened to generate enough magic to walk those few days ago. We can give you a few more days and try to walk again. However---”

“That’s enough,” Red growled, face buried in his hands again. “Just… I can’t right now, I just.…”

“I understand,” Alphys nodded and left the room.

Sans returned Red’s Soul, then also turned to leave, but stopped short when Red grabbed his arm. He looked back the sniffing skeleton.

“...Please don’t go…,” Red whispered.

Sans nodded and moved to wrap arms around Red, who began to cry.

“Mah brother said I can’t work no more.”

Sans’ sockets widen. “What?” he asked as he pulled back.

“I can’t work no more!!” Red repeated, sobbing. “All I ever done was walk t’tha stairs and help monsters back t’tha castle. I… I liked it,” he admitted, hands trembling. “Sometimes things got a little rough, but there was never once I thought ‘bout quittin’--- no matter tha weird shit I saw or how many idiots tried t’fight me over bullshit. I made it through with no problem. I knew what I was doin’ every day! **And all of that is just fuckin’ gone!!”** Red wailed. “I can’t fight no more! I can’t walk on mah own no more! Mah brother wants me t’do paperwork and figure out how t’fix problems--- **but that ain’t me!!”** he bellowed. “I ain’t never been good at thinkin’--- that’s why I took tha job t’escort monsters. I don’t gotta think ‘bout it, just use some magic every now and then. But now… I… I don’t know what I’m gonna do,” Red gulped down sobs as tears fell. He started to gasp and shake as the full weight of his situation fell on him like a ton of concrete.

What was he going to do? He hated the idea of sitting at a desk and reading paperwork or attending long meetings about nothing or being forced to come up with answers to problems he couldn’t begin to comprehend--- that wasn’t him!

He loved walking around, fighting, sharing his knowledge, having someone to be scared with because being scared with someone else lessened the fear.

Worse yet….

“I’m sorry!” he gasped out to Sans. “This ain’t what ya wanted t’see. I’m all broken and fucked up!”

“No, no, no,” Sans called, removing Red’s hands from his wet skull. “Breathe, sweetheart, breathe. There you go…. You’re okay. Everything is okay.” Sans smiled. “We’ll get through this.”

“How!?” Red screamed. “I can’t--- I can’t---”

“Stop saying you can’t,” Sans interrupted, squeezing Red’s hands. “Focus on what you _can_ do.”

Red took a few more deep breathes.

“All right,” Sans started when Red was calmer. “We know escorting monsters is too difficult now, but you can still help them get comfortable. You know so much about The Basement, a newcomer would love to hear what you have to say. I bet you could even write a nice pamphlet.”

Red gave a sad snicker. “Ya ain’t serious, are ya? I ain’t smart enough t’write.”

Sans hopped up on the bed, still holding Red’s hands. “Why do you think you’re not smart enough?”

Red shrugged, then blinked in realization. He… didn’t know why he thought he wasn’t smart enough. Maybe because he was so quick to fight and not so quick to talk things out? Well, in Winter, there was no talking things out. As for doing “Princely Duties” the meetings bored him, but, was that really because he wasn’t smart? No, the meetings bored him because… because they dragged on and on without breaks and nothing ever seemed to get done (except setting up a date for another meeting). And the administrative work, Gods, the idea of paperwork made Red queasy.

Who in all of The Basement thought anyone wanted to read long, drawn out rules and laws and decrees and exceptions to the rules and laws and decrees, _and then_ write long, drawn out rules and laws and decrees _only after_ reading _other_ rules and laws and decrees to make sure your new rules and laws and decrees didn’t change or contradict or delete old rules or laws or decrees and having to write exceptions for all the rules and laws and decrees that broke other rules and laws and decrees and Red **LOATHED THE ENTIRE PROCESS.**

He **hated** administrative work, he **hated** the meetings, not because he was dumb, but because these Princely Duties were boring and tedious.

“Huh,” Red murmured.

“Hm?” Sans purred.

“Workin’ at tha castle is borin’ as hell and kinda blows.”

Sans couldn’t help but chuckle at Red’s honesty. “Well, as an Adviser, I can agree that paperwork and the like can be a little grating. So, perhaps we can begin with finding a way to streamline the process so it doesn’t bore you as much.”

“I guess,” Red replied, rubbing his socket dry. “Uhh, sorry for gettin’ all emotional back there.”

“It’s all right, Crimson,” Sans replied with a reassuring smile. “Your life has been turned upside down. It’s perfectly all right to be emotional and even scared. I mean, I cried all night after….” Sans looked down at the bed. “I… I _mourned_ that night. For you… for me, for Cancell.”

Red wasn’t sure how to respond, allowing the room to go silent before her murmured, “Uh, so… Cancell… he, uh, asked me ‘bout mah, uh… intentions with ya.”

Sans stared back at Red. “Intentions?”

“I think he thinks I want to… uh… be more than friends.”

Sans blushed, arctic blue blooming across his cheekbones. “More than…. Oh my….”

“Yeah,” Red rubbed the back of his skull, then rested his hand atop Sans’. “I mean, we only talked twice before we were… separated. It’s not like we had time t’get t’know each other, ya know?”

“Right,” Sans smiled. “But, I mean… we have a lot of time to get to know each other now.”

Red looked towards the floor. “Eh, ya deserve a skeleton who ain’t all broken, Little Font.”

Sans reached up and touched Red’s cheekbone.

Red stared back, sockets wide.

“I don’t think you’re broken at all,” Sans spoke.

Red let out a slow breath. “Come on, Little Font, I only got one eye, mah legs don’t work, mah Soul don’t work…. I’m broken.”

“As long as you stay you, you’re not broken,” Sans replied. “Your tools are just more… limited than most, but just because you have less options doesn’t make those options any less powerful.”

Red rubbed his face again, a shy smile on his fangs. “Ya, huh… really gonna stick with an old broken bones like me?”

“Of course,” Sans smiled. “But _stop saying you’re broken,_ all right?” he asked, reaching up to stroke Red’s face again. He traced the cracks on his skull. “When I look at these, I do get a little sad, but I’m also reminded that you fought for me. You tried to keep me safe. You’re a fighter. You’re a protector.” Sans leaned up and placed his teeth on a thin crack, again letting Red know he understood how he felt, that he was his friend, that he supported him, that he….

Red wrapped arms around Sans, pressing him against his ribcage. He leaned up and rest his fangs on the bottom of Sans’ chin. Sans blushed, warmth soaking his Soul.

He wondered if Red’s Soul felt the same. Did his Soul heat up when Sans’ teeth graced his forehead or when Sans’ phalanges feathered his cheekbones, trailed down his cervical vertebrae and rest on his shoulders?

Sans shivered when Red’s distal phalanges slid down his spine through his sweater. His sockets drifted closed, his skull lowered until his forehead touched Red’s. His phalanges moved to Red’s cheekbones and he could feel Red’s warm breath against his teeth.

Sans opened his sockets, blushing when Red’s lidded sockets gazed back at him.

“Oh,” Sans whispered. “We… we’re so close.”

“Do ya… wanna stop?” Red whispered back.

“No, I… I kind of… like it,” Sans admitted, a shy smile on his skull.

Red smiled. “ If we keep this up, I, uh, might have t’really think ‘bout mah intentions. Cancell might ask ‘bout ‘em again.”

“Well, what are your intentions?” Sans asked, a bit coy.

"I… I don’t wanna t’rush anythin’,” Red answered. “But, I’d like t’get t’know ya more… See where this goes, ya know?”

“Me, too,” Sans replied, sockets lidded.

Red had to admit, Sans was looking quite… alluring right now. He smiled, leaned up and tapped his fangs against Sans’ teeth.

Sans leaned away, entire skull reddening, hands over his teeth. “Crimson! How scandalous!” he feigned surprise. “I was a Queen you know.”

“Ya can be mah Queen if ya want,” Red suggested, his sockets going narrow with the suggestion.

“Crimson!” Sans blushed brighter.

“Granted, we’d have t’get married fer it t’stick.”

"Crimmmmsoooon!” the tiny skeleton wailed, face steaming.

Red leaned away as he burst into a loud, belly laugh.

Sans couldn’t help but laugh with him for a few moments before the sounds died down into tranquil silence.

“Little Font.”

“Yes?”

“Are ya… really okay with bein’ with me like this?”

“Of course.”

“So…. we’re like a couple now?”

“Hm,” Sans nodded. “A former Queen and a Prince. Very scandalous.”

“I don’t mind bein’ scandalous with ya,” Red grinned.

“Well,” Sans rested against Red’s ribcage. “Let’s make a scandal.”

“We can spice it up even. Ya can be mah Adviser, too.”

“Oh?”

“...Canary suggested it…,” Red admitted. “And, if ya willin’ t’help me ease into this new life, well….”

“I’d love to be your Adviser, Crimson. You don’t even have to ask,” Sans replied. “I think it’ll be good for the both of us. We both feel guilty about what happened, so, if we help each other, it’ll ease that guilt. I’ll need help adjusting as well after all--- and who else to be better paired with than the monster who’s been all over?”

“Well, if ya don’t mind pushin’ me all over.”

“Not at all. As your adviser, I'll even petition Canary to get a better wheelchair for you. I don’t think this one matches your style.”

Red snickered. “That oughta be fun t’watch. Not a lot of monsters can stand up t’Canary just like that.”

“He cares a lot about you. You’re obviously his weak spot. Easy exploit,” Sans smirked.

“Ah, that’s mean!” Red laughed. “Well, don’t tell nobody.”

“Of course, of course.”

And the two kept talking for hours and hours, as if they had known each other for ages. That appeared to be the sort of love they shared: Something already planted and just needing a little time and care to grow.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> These two bois are so pure. I love them so much. We have one more chapter with Sans and Red, and then two more chapters following Cancell to the end. So, three more chapters left. I haven't decided if I want to do chapter 22 and 23 together (because 22 is quite short) or chapter 23 and 24 together, but I plan on ending this story next week. It's that bittersweet time again
> 
> Kakorrhaphiophobia is the fear of failure. This one seems to have been conquered. :3


	22. Lepidoptero

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You and me.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Heyo, I'm finishing up a&b today! Enjoy!

Over the next few days, Sans and Red fell into a nice rhythm: Sans woke early to clean up before heading to the dining room to eat breakfast. He would bring a plate of food to Red, then help him bathe---he already needed help getting in the tube, so Sans thought nothing of just helping him bathe..

However, the first time helping Red bathe was a little embarrassing. Red, after all, wasn’t a little baby bones. He was a full grown Skeleton and Sans couldn’t help but notice how immense his ribcage and pelvis were. Though they were covered in deep cuts and patterned with twisting burn marks, Sans could imagine that they had once been smooth and the color of porcelain.

Sans found that he liked running the warm, wet towel over the curves of Red’s ribs, down the slick vertebrae and along his pelvis. He was careful not to stay too long on the sacrum or coccyx, rather intimate parts of a Skeleton. Sans also made quick work along the ischial spine---the most inner region of the pelvis, as well as the pubic arc and pubic symphysis.

The fact that Red’s Soul gave a low hum when the smaller skeleton cleaned these sensitive regions didn’t escape Sans. He would move to Red’s legs soon after, but not without trying to hide his own blush.

After the bath, Sans helped Red dress, then helped him into his wheelchair (Canary was still working on getting a better one). Sans would push Red around the first floor of the castle (he had already made Canary aware of making the castle more accessible for Red). This little journey involved going down a long hall lined with windows, through the Grand Hall and into the study and library.

Sometimes, however, they would stop in the hallway to watch the “sky” change from a sunrise pink and red to an early morning blue. Sans enjoyed these moments of silence with Red. Sometimes, he could hear Red’s Soul pulsing, slow but strong with each thrum. He could fall asleep to this deep hum--- and, much to Sans’ embarrassment, he had a few times, slumping forward and resting atop Red’s skull. He wasn’t sure how long he would sleep before jolting awake, but Red was always kind enough not to wake him, only chuckle at Sans’ arctic blue blush.

Sometimes they sat on the front step of the castle and enjoyed the sun and cool wind before heading inside for lunch. They would eat in the dining room, but more often than not Sans would bring back lunch to enjoy with Red outside. They talked about all sorts of things--- family (Red’s mother had gone missing in Autumn and the lost had driven his father to a slow death in Spring. Sans had no real memories of his mother and his father had never brought her up) and hobbies (both of them loved to read, Red enjoying trashy romances and magazines while Sans indulged in scientific journals). They were both enamoured by the changing sky. They brainstormed ways to get to the rock that made up the ceiling and study its composition to figure out just how the Spectrals had enchanted the rock to mimic the sky on the surface. So far, they hadn’t found any records about the method in the library.

Another thing Red came to love was Sans’ puns. Red loved dirty jokes, but he lit up at Sans’ puns, no matter how bad they were. He laughed twice as hard when Canary overheard them and would groan from around a corner.

Sans was happy with is new audience. He hadn’t made many puns since Papyrus’ death.

Sometimes, Sans talked about Papyrus to Red. Red was always quiet when Sans talked about him. Sans would talk about how Papyrus would help him get up early and clean the house, how he would help Papyrus patrol from time to time, how they would share their secrets.

Even now, Sans held onto Papyrus’ deepest secrets in the core of his Soul.

The smaller skeleton always thanked Red for listening and a comfortable silence would settle around them.

After lunch, the two would go into the meeting room that was off the right of the Grand Hall. The meeting room was similar to the one at The Sun, except that colors were honey yellow and chocolate brown. In this room, Red told (or, more so, complained) about the red tape in place that made doing anything a hassle, no matter how beneficial a new idea may be for the kingdom.

Sans jotted down all the different ways Red would come up with to simplify the ‘red tape process’ on a notepad.

Another thing Red wanted to tackle was cleaning up Winter and implementing the vacation idea his brother had thought up for Spring.

Sans suggested talking to the citizens of Winter about how they would improve their city. As for Spring, Sans stuck with his idea of taking samples of the air to figure out why being in that area made everyone so lazy. If they could reduce or cancel the resulting laziness, something could be made of the place. Red wasn’t sure if they had the equipment or space to study something like that.

With a smirk, Sans jotted down ‘create a new lab.’

After their meetings, there was a chance that Red would need a nap in the afternoon. If he got too excited (which happened quite a bit with Sans having answers for problems Red brought up), his Soul would exert a bit more magic than usual. While he napped, Sans took to the library, gobbling up any sort of information he could find about history, government and the different minerals of the land. He took note of all the red tape he planned to convince Canary to cut, jotted down the minerals that may have been responsible for what Sans called the “Nap Sickness” happening in Spring (as well as hints of how the sky worked) and read tome after tome of the history of The Basement. The Spectrals were rather thorough in their history records.

If Red was still awake after their noontime meanings, the two worked on a little introduction pamphlet for newcomers. Sans wrote down anything Red felt was important for newcomers to know as well as anything they would need to have created to be considered a real citizen, like an ID card and their own file of helpful information, such as a resume.

Sans admired Red’s attention to detail. He seemed to be bursting with ideas to make The Basement a better place. Sans hoped they would be able to bring these ideas to light after easing the “red tape maze.”

Often, the two fell into a peaceful silence as they jotted down notes. This tended to attract a few giggles from passing maids who found the two studying and brainstorming together quite cute.

This often made Red blush. He was so used to being a tough guy that made monsters take notice as well as a few steps back.

Now, maids came up to him and asked if he and Sans were doing well _together,_ what were _they_ going to do today.

The two had become a pair, came as a set, were, well, a couple.

 _A couple…_ Red thought. He glanced over at Sans sitting next to him, nose bone in a book. The Font was... cute in a tiny, itty bitty, ‘let me gobble you up’ sort of way. He was adorable when he was concentrating on his writing and reading, like most Fonts were. He was smart, helpful, thoughtful, brave…

….Gave really good forehead kisses.

Red blushed before resting his head on the table.

“Are you all right?” Sans called.

“I’ll tell ya later, after dinner,” Red waved off, thinking he’d have time to collect himself, but ‘after dinner’ rolled around much faster than he had wanted.

In Red’s temporary room, Sans slipped him out of his shorts, socks and sneakers. Red always tried not to let his imagination run wild and Sans always fumbled a bit, cerulean blue on his cheekbones.

After helping Red get comfortable in bed, Sans asked, “So, what was going on earlier?”

Red blushed and looked down. His phalanges tapped against each other. “Uh… well… Promise ya won’t laugh.”

Sans smiled. “Of course.”

“I… uh…,” Red looked away. He mumbled something.

Sans leaned in closer, resting against the bed. “What was that?”

Red closed his sockets tight, his cheekbones burning crimson. “I THINK YER CUTE!” he spat out.

Sans blinked as cerulean bloomed across his face. He gave a shy smile. “Well, thank you. I think you’re very handsome.”

The air rushed from Red’s body as shock shook his Soul. His sockets widen and his skull was a brilliant hot pink.

Sans couldn’t help but giggle at the reaction. The smaller skeleton did find Red quite attractive--- and funny, courageous, intelligent, strong….

Still smiling, Sans leaned up and kissed Red on the cheekbone. Red shouldn’t have been surprised, but his body just froze at the little clack he felt against his face.

“Good night, Crimson,” Sans whispered before turning to leave. However, before Sans got too far, Red grabbed his wrist and pulled him around to face him.

Fangs and teeth were inches from each other, a breath was shared , heat burnt..

_Clak!_

A quick kiss on the forehead.

Sans blushed as Red pulled away, skull also burning in embarrassment.

Sans smiled, breaking the tension.

Red gave a shy smile back. “Go-good night, Sans.”

“Good night, Crimson.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Lepidopterophobia is the fear of butterflies--- in the case of this chapter, the kind you get when you're around someone you like ;3
> 
> Also, I am dead from this fluff! X_X lol


	23. Rhabdo

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You can't change who you are, I guess.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And now time for some sad, because that's how I roll >:3

“Good morning, Keepsayk.”

The shadow whipped around in her seat at the dining table to find Cancell behind her dressed as classy as ever--- he really knew how to pull off a black suit.

She gave a shy smile. “Go-good morning, Cancelleresca.”

He gave a nod, then walked a few seats down from her.

Keep sighed. The two had been exchanging pleasantries since ‘that day,’ so, there was some sense of… acquaintanceship between the two, tense as that was….

Of course Keep wanted things to go back to normal. She thought Cancell was adorable--- and his hands were quite skilled for someone with so little experience in that department.

Keep blushed at the memory of his phalanges kneading her breasts before his mom had interrupted. Sans, of course, had been right to do so. Keep was sure the two wouldn’t have stopped at just an intimate massage.

But Cancell was more than just adorable and detailed. He was fun. He loved shopping, arcades, eating. Everything was a new experience for him and she loved seeing his sockets light up with every new activity they did together.

She wanted _that Cancell_ back, but all she could think of was that… _other Cancell_ \--- the blood red sockets, the cackling laughter, the swirling inky black magic, the desire to kill.

Keep’s hands kneaded each other in her lap as she became swallowed in deeper thoughts.

Cancell wanted to kill Asgore.

‘His bastard child striking him down, leaving only his DUST!’

No… Cancell wanted to kill his _father._ Keep knew her history--- that Asgore tossed monsters who he felt was against him to The Basement. Everyone was taught as much in school growing up.

Somehow, that cruel Monster had fathered a child--- a child that wanted to reduce him to a pile of Dust.

What had Asgore done to him? Was the king so evil that he couldn’t even care for his own child?

Keep realized that she didn’t know much about Cancell--- not that she could blame him at this point. If she was Cancell, she wouldn’t want anyone knowing her dad was Asgore either.

But, if she wanted things to be okay between her and Cancell, she’d have to ask Cancell about his life, wouldn’t she? If they were going to have a true friendship and maybe something even more, she’d have to understand why Asgore angered him so much to the point of him losing control. She just wanted to understand Cancell.

If she knew more about why he wanted to kill Asgore, maybe she could convince him not to murder him, not to taint the sweet, kind image of him she knew as true.

She had felt his hands on her body; they weren’t the hands of a murderer.

After breakfast, Cancell left the dining room and Keep began to follow him back to the Grand Hall. She had psyched herself up to talk to him, to ask all her questions.

Deep breath.

Release.

“Cancell.”

The Skeleton stopped and turned around.

Keep gulped. “I… I’d like to talk to you please.”

Cancell nodded and followed Keep to her room, just as ornate as the one he was sharing with his mom.

Keep sat on the bed as Cancell closed the door. He then walked over to the bed and sat next to her.

An uneasy silence fell between them.

“...I’m sorry I scared you,” Cancell spoke after several moments.

“I… it’s…” Keep fumbled with her words. _Come on, come on,_ she berated herself. She took a deep breath. “I just… want to understand why you have to do this,” she spoke. “Cancell, you… you’re so… you’re so sweet and kind. I… I can’t stand the idea of you even thinking about… doing something like this. It’s not you at all, Cancell.”

Cancell’s fangs bared, his hand curling into fists. “He Soul Raped my mom, Keepsayk.”

Keep felt her own Soul drop in her chest. She… she hadn’t expected… hadn’t even thought…. She looked to the floor, hand to her mouth, unable to speak.

Cancell continued, voice low. “That’s where I came from. I am the result of one of the most _heinous_ things you can do to another monster. I _felt_ what he did to him, I saw the memories of all the cruelty Asgore did to my mother. I was there when he mourned what he believed to be Crimson’s death by Asgore’s fire. He’s not only a rapist, but a murderer, a dictator. Everything he does is for himself, his own gain. Asgore is evil and someone needs to put him down once and for all.”

“But why does that someone have to be you!?” Keepsayk cried, shooting to her feet. “I get it, Asgore is awful, and he doesn’t deserve any goodwill, but you… _you’re not a murderer, Cancell,_ and I… I’m terrified of what might happen to you if you do this,” Keep admitted, rubbing an arm. “The way you acted at the meeting, the way you… _changed_ at the idea of killing Asgore, like it would be the most thrilling thing you’ll ever do in your life. Cancell… what if killing Asgore does something to your Soul, something you won’t be able to fix?”

“That doesn’t matter,” Cancell spoke, standing up. “My Soul is already a mess.” Looking down, Cancell willed his Soul to appear in between them. The heart, inky black, dripped with sludge.

Keepsayk stared, eye wide. She had never seen anything like this. She had no idea Souls could be so… dark and… misshapen. However, she still had a desire to touch the heart shape. Despite the color and shape, despite the dripping, this was still a Soul. There was no reason for her to be afraid.

Keep reached out for the Soul only for Cancell to pull the heart shape back inside his chest. She withdrew her hand. “I’m sorry. I… I should have asked first. I just… It doesn’t scare me, now that I’ve actually seen it, now that I understand more, I’m not afraid of it. But… I am afraid of what might happen to it, to you, if you do this,” Keep pressed, trying to hold back her tears, trying not to imagine the worst. What if, after killing Asgore, Cancell’s Soul lost its shape and just became a pile of sludge on the floor? What if his magic went out of control in the heat of the moment and his Soul couldn’t handle the power and just… poof, like smoke in the air?

“Cancell, please….”

“Look,” Cancell breathed, looking down into Keep’s watery eye. “If you don’t want anything to do with me after I do this, I understand. But I’m not going to change my mind.” And, thinking this might be the last time Keep would ever want to see him, Cancell reached up and cupped her face in his hands. He leaned forward and gave her plump lips a quick, but deep, kiss. He pulled away and whispered to her. “I’m sorry I disappointed you.”

And he was gone, the door closing with a soft click.

Keep couldn’t move for long seconds, her mind trying to grasped what had happened in the last few minutes.

Cancell had given her his answer, had given her an out, had given her a kiss and an apology.

Keep took slow steps to the bed and sat down, fingers lingering on her lips. She sniffed. “You idiot,” she murmured in a soft sob. “You can’t just… How are you going to kiss me like that and then turn around and…? You idiot!” Keep screamed, jumping to her feet and heading for the door. She raced into the hall, onto the landing, peered downstairs to the Grand Hall.

Cancell was no where in sight.  

“Fine, you stupid idiot!” Keep screamed, catching the bewildered attention of a few guards and maids. She twisted around and headed for her room. “Orokana baka!” she growled as she grabbed a small bag and stuffed a few clothes inside. She just needed to leave, she couldn’t stand the idea of being here after what had just happened in this room. She knew she should try to find Sans, but she imagined he already knew Cancell’s plan and if his own mother couldn’t talk him out of this mess, why should she keep trying? “Baka, baka, baka!” she stomped out of her room, face still wet. She just wanted to go home, cry into the cushions of her couch, scream off Swap’s ear as she bombarded him with everything…

…Pray to the Sun Goddess that Cancell would come back all right.

As anger as she was, she couldn’t hate that stupid idiot.

She stomped downstairs, missing the pinpoints staring from the shadowed hall on the opposite landing.

“Stupid idiot,” Cancell repeated with a curt laugh. “Yeah, that’s me,” he agreed as he turned around to click on the light, illuminating the hallway that lead to what could only be the Princes’ wing. He glanced down the hall to read the names on the plates on the doors, then clicked the light off, hiding himself in the shadows. He began up the hall, ready to put the first step of his plan into action.

For the past several days, Cancell had been researching Talismans. The concept for making Talismans was simple in theory, difficult in practice: Find a certain rock, carve a certain magic symbol in the rock, charge the rock in a well of magic. At one time, everyone had access to the necessary rock, the carving tools and wells, but fights soon broke out over the better wells as the shallow ones began to run dry. Fake talismans were made for a quick bag of gold. Monsters started to die, unable to defend themselves with counterfeits. Regulation was needed, so a large well was opened, the rock carved out, the tools gathered and the job fell to a small group of Talisman makers. For a small fee, one could have a Talisman made--- though there was a long wait since only a few real ones were ever made at a time. Counterfeits never stopped, but with a known, reliable source, their numbers at least dwindled.

Interesting as all of that was, this wasn’t the information Cancell wanted, What he wanted to know was about the frequencies Talismans could work with and if one was similar enough to The Attic.

There had been tests done with different frequencies, most ending with unsatisfying results, but they hadn’t tried to use a frequency they believed to be similar to The Attic--- at least, there was no record of them doing so. And, like the tests done all those years ago, the ones running now hadn’t yielded many positive outcomes either.

All that known to him, Cancell just couldn’t let go of the idea of using Talismans one way or another. If he was going to fight a Boss Level Monster, he should take advantage of all the weapons he could, shouldn’t he? Of course, but he didn’t have time to wait for those weapons to be made.

That’s why he stood in front a door, the name shining of the plate, despite the darkness:

Crimson (Son of the 105th Family of Yellow)

Cancell tried the door.

Unlocked.

He glanced up the hall one more time, then slipped into the room.

A small office awaited him with a door Cancell thought led to Red’s bedroom. The desk, a shiny hickory, was covered in papers, the matching bookcases full of binders.

Cancell made his way to the desk and pulled open drawers--- pens, note pads, books.

He closed them and went for the other door.

As he thought, Red’s bedroom.

The place was a mess, books piled everywhere. He went to the bedside table to the right of the room and opened the drawer.

“Well, hello,” he whispered as he pulled out a Talisman, this one with arrows carved into the surface.

Shuffle, magic used to move objects.

Cancell pocketed the Talisman and left the room. Staying in the darkness, he eased out to the landing, then made his way to the opposite one and headed down the hall to Keep’s room. He took a deep breath, blowing out the nagging regret bubbling in his Soul. He went into her room and made his way to her bedside table.

She had left her Shadow Talisman there.

Cancell took up the tiny rock, Soul aching all the more, the same ache he had felt after grabbing his mother’s Replenish and Ring Talismans earlier this morning. Sans always left them when he went to tend to Red.

 _I have to do it this way. I don’t have time to wait,_ Cancell convinced himself. Having a full set of Talismans made would have taken weeks and Dr. Alphys would mention what Cancell was doing to Sans at some point. The sooner he got them and made his way upstairs (which he would deal with when he got there), the sooner he could kill Asgore and then give the Talismans back.

“Fuck, I’m sorry,” he whispered before whipping around and heading downstairs. He left the castle and began to make his way to The Sun. He was going under the guise of asking Dr. Alphys more about frequencies and The Attic, but what he really wanted to know was what extra Talismans they had on the second floor. He still needed a Needle, Disregard and Avenge (the Summoning Talisman) for a full set.

“A Talisman that could work in The Attic?” Alphys repeated back Cancell’s question, her voice just a tad louder than the large humming well of magic behind them. “Well, I personally do not think you would need Talismans in The Attic,” she started. “You were born in The Attic, after all. I imagine your Soul would just re-attune to the familiar frequency.”

“Interesting,” Cancell nodded. “I’ve just been reading a lot about them lately. You’ve been trying different frequencies, too, but have not had a lot of success, right? Do you test your own Talismans when you test frequencies?”

“Oh, yes,” Alphys nodded. “We have our own set upstairs just for testing. That way we do not have to use any that are made for someone else.”

Cancell nodded again. “Yes, that makes sense.”

“Well, _actually,_ there is one that is not ours,” Alphys admitted. “That one is for Crimson, whenever he wants it. He has been the only one able to use this particular Talisman, so we never made another one for our set.” The tiny dinosaur led Cancell to a pedestal behind the well of magic. Atop the pedestal was a clear case and inside the case was a Talisman with an X on its smooth surface.

 _This wasn’t here the first time I came,_ Cancell noted.

Alphys gave a shy smile. “Disregard Talismans are hard to make, so we like to show them off,” she rubbed the back of her head. “Crimson had the only other we made, but it was lost in the fight with Asgore, so we made him another one. The Disregard Talisman drains all magic from all nearby Talismans. Since all it does is absorb magic, it could, in theory, be used in The Attic and drain any surrounding magic, perhaps from the air, perhaps from other Monsters. I really could not say for sure. But, as a vacuum of sorts, it needs no frequency to work. Crimson seems to be the only one to use it without problem, but Spectrals regard the color red as the color of cancellation, and since Crimson has… or, had, a red soul, that may be why he was able to use it.”

“I see,” Cancell murmured, leaning closer to stare at the talisman. “Dr. Alphys, perhaps I could run an experiment for you with this Talisman? I have a unique Soul myself, so perhaps---”

“I am sorry, Cancelleresca, but, I rather not,” Alphys interrupted with a dismissive wave as she turned away from the case. “If Crimson is able to use it without problem to his Soul, he will need that Talismans more than ever to defend himself. However, should he not be able to use it, he may pass it own to you. In that case, you’re free to use it as you wish.”

Cancell rolled his pinpoints. With all the flirting Red and Sans were doing, they wouldn’t be testing out Talismans any time soon and he couldn’t just ask Red to try, hope he failed, then turn around and asked for the Talisman himself. _I’ll just have to take this one later,_ Cancell decided as he straightened up. “Thank you for the information, Dr. Alphys,” Cancell bowed before leaving The Sun. Instead of heading to the castle, he circled the building to look for a way to break in later.

“One back door, windows on the second floor,” he noted as he returned to the castle. “I might be able to unlock the back door…. I wonder if…. If I squeeze my ‘other hands’ under the door, could I unlock it from the inside? Could I get them to lay flat maybe?” He paused and summoned his magic to test out the mobility of his magic hands, but he soon noticed the spiral of magic was now a decorated circle with a black hole. His magic hands raised from the black hole, but he could now see that they were connected to…

…What was that?

Cancell squatted down and peered into the hole, could see the arms were trailing down into an abyss and were connected to… something. “Wait, have these arms not been mine this whole time?” Cancell asked leaning into the hole. “…Hello?” he called.

No voice answered, but a huge eye blinked at him.

Cancell’s sockets widen. “Gods Below…a literal blinking abyss. If this is a  Summon… but I thought I had to make a pact with a Summon. Do some of them not need a Pact? How did this one find me?” Cancell looked back at the abyss. He could make out more hands flailing around, all trailing back to this amorphous… thing. “What are you?”

“ a l l o f t h e m”

In the span of a breath, Cancell shut the circle. He gasped, short of air, sockets still wide. The voices had shaken him to the very core of his Soul, connecting with him on the deepest level.

Because they had the same Heartsick Soul he did.

Cancell knew there had been others like him, but he had never thought about what had happened to them in death. However, in that second, he knew. In life, they felt so alone, but in death, they were together, they were… all of them.

Cancell caught his breath and stood up. After a few wobbly steps, the shock rolled off of him, now replaced with some odd sense of calm.

Thoughts somewhat in a haze, he didn’t realize he was back to the castle until he heard his mom call out to him. He blinked at his mom waving at him from beside Red on the steps. “Uh… oh.…” Cancell gave a wave as he reached the steps. “Good morning, mother. Good morning, Crimson.”

Sans walked down the steps to meet his son. “Love, there’s something I’d like to tell you,” he blushed. “I’ll be… staying with Crimson a bit longer than planned.”

Cancell blinked. “Oh?”

“Well, Canary wanted me to help Crimson recover, but, um, things have changed between us.”

“Oh. You’re dating now,” Cancell gave a blunt reply.

Sans’ skull turned arctic blue and Red guffawed with laughter.

“Well, that’s nice to know,” Cancell nodded. “I don’t particularly have anything against Crimson, so I wish you two luck.”

Sans smiled. “Thank you, love.” He took Cancell’s hands and leaned up to kiss his son’s cheekbone. “That leads me to my next point. You’re an adult now, Cancell, so you’re free to stay where you wish. Perhaps you and Keepsayk can come up with something.” He gave a hopeful smile.

“Uh…,” Cancell murmured, looking away.

Sans tilted his skull. “Have you two still not talked since…?”

Cancell only sighed. “We did. She knows everything. She knows what I want to do.”

Sans’ sockets arched. “Love… you don’t have to do this. We’re safe here, finally safe.” Sans hugged his son. “Please, I can’t lose you.”

“Mom… I just…”

Sans pulled away. “Besides, we can’t open the door from this side.”

“But my magic might---”

“Cancelleresca, **please!”** Sans cried, tears bubbling in his sockets. “You _don’t have to do this._ So, please… don’t.”

Cancell gave another sigh. He closed his sockets for a moment, feeling tired. His soul felt heavy, ached again with everything he had done so far. A part of him just wanted to sleep and not wake up.

But, at the same time, when Cancell closed his sockets, he saw Asgore’s smirking face, saw the pain he had inflicted on his mom--- felt that pain in the core of his Soul.

He couldn’t let any of that pain, that anger, go. His Soul was made of rage and hatred and he couldn’t be free from that chain until Asgore was Dust at his feet.

Only if he couldn’t open the door would he concede defeat. Until he had no options, he had to keep going. His Soul, aching in regret, thrummed more in anger and wouldn’t let Cancell do otherwise until the anger was satiated.

…So much for being just a reflection.

Cancell hugged his mom close. He bit his tongue when he heard his mom call out with his Soul. ‘Please don’t do this, love.’

Cancell could only apologize before walking back into the castle.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Cancell, y u do this? >:(
> 
> Rhabdophobia is the fear of the magic. Cancell's magic is quite unique and special, but what would happen if he lost control? He's already doing things he's regretting. Maybe he's losing control already.
> 
> Also, introducing a l l o f t h e m. Not quite a last minute addition. I had planned on the hands belonging to a Summon for a while. I just wanted Cancell to meet it/them at some point and find out on his own. It's a cute, yet morbid concept. My kind of thing :3
> 
> Last chapter incoming!


	24. Cleithro

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Time for the Going out of Business Sale!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here we are, at the final showdown. Good luck, Starfox.   
> Oh, man, no one's gonna get that reference. >.>
> 
> Make sure to read the notes at the end for an update to the schedule!

When sleep fell over the castle the following night, Cancell put his plan into action. First stop was back to The Sun. He hoped he could find an extra Needle and Avenge Talisman when he broke into the building.

So, add breaking and entering to all the theft.

But, he had decided he wanted ever advantage he could get against Asgore. This was a Boss Level Monster he was about to kill after all. He just hoped that somehow his unique magic could trigger that Talismans once he was back upstairs.

First things first, however.

Cancell dressed as professional as a company leader on his first day, gave his sleeping mother a kiss on the cheekbone, then took up Keep’s Shadow Talisman. Already in the darkness of the room, he imagined The Sun in his mind and whispered, “A Blackness of Ink will Conceal.” He felt his body sort of melt and stretch as the magic pulled him form the darkness of the bedroom to the shadow cast by The Sun’s small form.

Pressing against the building, Cancell edged his around to the locked back door. Cancell had already decided this would still be his best bet--- no one would notice an unlocked back door for a while.

He studied the lock for a moment, then conjured up his coal black hands from the swirling hole of magic around his feet. He forced the fingers to flatten and squeeze in between the door and the frame, then push against the lever holding the door in place. He had to maneuver his inky black limb back toward the doorknob, push forward then bend back the opposite way.

The door made a click sound and Cancell grabbed the handle, turned and pushed, opening the door wide and falling flat on his face into the conference room.

 _Yeah… totally deserve that,_ he agreed with the universe. He crawled into the room and closed the door with his extra limb, Keeping his magic hands available, Cancell crept into the main room of The Sun. He first went upstairs to the (unlocked) room where he found all manner of carving and cutting tools. This was the room they created Talismans in. Finding a charged Needle and Avenge Talisman was easy work, as they kept the ‘testing set’ near the front of the room.

Back downstairs, Cancell took a glance at the last Talisman he needed: Disregard. He approached the pedestal and, with ease, slipped his magic into the case to grab the small stone. Satisfied with his heist, he used the Shadow Talisman to teleport as far away from The Sun as possible.

He ended up near Toriel’s cottage.

And she just happened to be sweeping her front step.

“Oh my word!” she jumped as the skeleton stepped from the shadow of the cottage. She squinted. “Cancelleresca? Is that you?”

“Oh…,” His eyes widen. “Yes… hello?” he waved.

Toriel’s eyes narrowed and she gripped the handle of her broom harder. “All right then…. what are you doing here?”

Cancell’s gave shifted to the side. “…Just… taking a long walk….”

“... With a Shadow Talisman?” Toriel eyed.

Cancell’s gave shifted to his other side. “…Yes?”

Toriel huffed. “Inside,” she pointed into the cottage.

Cancell sighed and walked into the dim living room. Toriel followed and closed the door.

“So, where are you going?” she asked as she set the broom next to the door.

“No where,” Cancell lied from his seat on the armchair. “I was just out walking. Really?”

Toriel huffed, crossing her arms. “I felt the magic dissipate when you arrived. Monsters usually use the Shadow Talisman when in a rush or to escape---” Toriel’s eyes widen. “Were you in danger!? Where’s Sans!?”

“I’m fine. Mom’s at the castle with Red.”

Toriel sighed, hands coming to her chest. “Thank goodness. Then… what are you  doing here? Does he know you’re not at the castle?”

Cancell looked down. “…No.”

Toriel edged closer. “Cancelleresca…. Why did you come all the way out here? The only thing out here is….” She gasped. “Are you.. are you trying to go back upstairs?”

Cancell didn’t answer, just kept his lidded gaze towards the fire.

“Cancelleresca,” Toriel whispered, hurrying over to him. “Cancelleresca, please.”

Cancell glared up at her. “I thought you were fine with Asgore dying.”

“You may not look it now, but you are _still a child,_ Cancelleresca!” Toriel snapped. “You have your whole life in front of you! Leave Asgore to the adults--- to the Prince!”

Cancell’s sockets flashed crimson. “Asgore is **my** kill,” he growled, standing up. “I said I would kill him and I will. I’m sorry I couldn’t give you the front row seat like my mom promised.” He stomped past her and opened the door.

“Cancelleresca, please!” Toriel pleaded. “Asgore is a Boss Level Monster! At least wait---”

“I can’t wait!” Cancell shot back. “Every second I stay here is another second a Monster becomes Dust by Asgore’s hands or another Monster is tossed down here--- that’s why you’re up, isn’t it? Because at any time, a knock could come at your door--- another Monster who Asgore wants to suffer. I can’t wait anymore!”

And Cancelled walked out of the cottage, slamming the door.

Toriel stared, eyes wide. She dashed into her bedroom to connect her phone. The technology was still new and finicky, so getting connected to the castle took far longer than Toriel liked, but soon, a groggy Undyne picked up the phone.

“This is Undyne,” she yawned. “First Commander of the Royal Guard. Do you have an emergency?”

“Ms. Undyne, this is Toriel!” the panicked goat started, voice shaking. “You must send someone to the door as quickly as possible! Cancelleresca is heading upstairs! He’s going to fight Asgore! Please! I tried to stop him, but---”

“I understand, Ms. Toriel,” Undyne spoke. “Do not follow Cancelleresca--- he can be potentially dangerous if he loses his temper. I will alert Sans and the Prince at once.” Undyne hung up the phone, leaped from her bed and dressed in her one-piece leotard before storming out of her room and thundering upstairs.

“Prince Canary!” She shouted as she beat on his door. “We have an emergency!”

The door flew open to a groggy, grimacing skull. “What?”

“I have just been informed that Cancelleresca is going to attempt to fight Asgore,” Undyne spoke.

“Dammit,” Canary growled. “Alert Alphys. We may need extra Talismans if Asogre bypasses that reckless child. I will alert his mother.”

“Yes, sir!” Undyne saluted and dashed down the hall.

Canary whipped around and marched back into his room to grab his robe.

“Hmmm… love, what’s wrong?” came a groggy voice form the skeleton’s bed.

“Nothing you have to worry about right now, Thistle dearest, just a… breech of sorts,” Canary answered as he headed back to the door.

The royal purple Fire Elemental sat up. “Do you need my help?”

“No, dearest,” Canary replied. “Stay here, in case the castle is compromised.”

Thistle nodded and slipped out of bed to get dressed--- just in case….

Canary exited the room, face hard like stone, and headed to the opposite landing to Sans’ room. He gave the door three hard knocks and a few moments later, Sans opened the door, rubbing a socket.

“Hrm, Canary?”

“Sans, Cancelleresca has been reported near the door. He is allegedly heading upstairs.”

Sans’ sockets shot open. **“WHAT!?”** He whipped around and stumbled to the far bed. “Cancell!?” he screamed as he pulled the sheets back and patted the mattress.

Even in the dark, he could see the bed was empty.

“No… no, no no, no, no,” Sans whispered before turning around and dashing out of the room and into the hall. He raced to Keep’s room and pounded on the door. “KEEPSAYK! **KEEPSAYK! WAKE UP!”**

The door crept open and a red eye peered out. “Sans?”

“Is Cancell in there with you!?”

Keep opened the door wider. “What? No, of course not--- you said to--- what’s going on?”

“Gods, no!” Sans wailed. “He’s gone to fight Asgore! I knew I should have kept a better socket on him tonight! But he came to bed without any problem, so I thought--- Gods, oh, gods!”

“Don’t worry, Sans,” Canary spoke. “We have Undyne getting other Talismans in the event that Asgore is able to come downstairs.”

 **“I DON’T GIVE A DAMN ABOUT ASGORE, I NEED TO STOP MY SON!!”** Sans exploded. **“WE NEED TO GET TO THE DOOR NOW!!”**

“My Shadow Talisman!” Keep cried. “We can use that!” she ran to her bedside table and clicked on the lamp. “What? It was… it was right here!”

Sans sockets widen as he dashed back into his room. He clicked on the lamp next to the bed and soon found his Talismans were gone as well.

“Did he…?” Sans whispered. “He must have… that’s how he got all the way out there so quickly!”

“Prince Canary!” Undyne’s voice thundered from the main hall. “There’s an emergency at The Sun!”

“What!?” Canary cried as he ran down the hall to meet Undyne on the landing. A tired Alphys staggered behind her, having already raced to the castle herself.

“Dr. Alphys went in for an early shift and saw that the Disregard Talisman was gone!” Undyne informed. “I sent some of my guards to investigate, but, according to Dr. Alphys, at first glance, it doesn’t appear to have been a break-in.”

“I locked the doors!” Alphys cried. “I know I did! I’m the only one with the keys! But the Talisman--- it’s just gone!”

Canary whipped around to Sans, who still had a shocked look on his skull. “Is your child responsible for this as well!?” he demanded.

“He… he might be…,” Sans admitted. “You saw how he reacted when you threatened to kill Asgore. He’s determined to be the one to end him.”

“Dammit,” Canary cursed as he turned to Alphys. “Do you have any Shadow Talismans?”

“None charged, My Prince,” Alphys nodded. “Our Shadow Talisman was drained for today’s frequency test---when I turned on the lights to The Sun, it started the magic well’s ‘off day’ cycle, so Talismans are going to charge slower.”

“We have over a hundred guards!” Undyne broke in. “Surely, one of them has a charged Shadow Talisman!”

“We do not have time to call one hundred individual monsters!” Canary countered.

“But even if we walked non-stopped, we won’t catch catch up with him in time!” Undyne retorted.

“I… I might be able to.”

The group turned to Keep.

“My species of monster is pretty fast,” she explained. “Even more so at night,” She turned to Sans. “It’s why Swap was always able to meet back up with us so quickly. Anyway, I may be able to make it before Cancell reaches the door. If not, maybe before he finds Asgore, at least.”

“Take me with you then!” Sans cried. “I’m small, I can just piggy back!”

Keep nodded and squatted, allowing Sans to crawl onto her back.

“What are you going to do if you find him in time?” Canary asked.

“I… I don’t know,” Sans admitted. “I’ll figure something out while we’re going.”

Canary could only nod.

Keep began down the landing, then down the steps.

At the bottom, Red had wheeled himself out of his room. 

”Crimson!?” Sans called. 

”What’s goin’ on? I heard screamin’” Red spoke.

“Cancell is going to fight Asgore. Keep and I need to stop him,” Sans answered. “I don’t want him to have blood on his Soul, or Asgore becoming a real threat to The Basement.”

“Dammit,” Red growled. “I’m useless like this!”

“No, you’re not,” Sans smiled. “I’ll need someone to be here for me when I get back.”

Red blinked before giving Sans a reassuring smile. “Be careful, Little Font.”

Sans nodded. “I’m ready, Keep.”

Keep nodded in response and shot out of the open front door. Sans held onto her shoulders as the wind whirled around past them.

All he could do now was pray to the Gods Above and Below to keep Cancell safe. He tired to call out to Cancell’s Soul, bu there was no answer. He was too far away. Did that mean he was already upstairs?

‘No, please, not yet,’ Sans prayed, trying to reach out to Cancell again. ‘Please…’

‘...It’ll be okay…’

‘Cancell!?’

He didn’t answer--- he shouldn’t have answered the first time, but he couldn’t stand his mother’s pleading. He kept walking, ignoring the peering shadows from the woods, the curious silver gazes of unknown creatures. The shadowed dog followed at a distant until Cancell reached the tower of stairs. When Cancell stepped through the archway and turned around, the shadowed dog had vanished.

Cancell then began the long journey up the spiral staircase, his footsteps echoing around him until he reached the familiar stone door, still smooth and bare. He dug into his pocket and pulled out the Shuffle Talisman.

“An Object of Worth will Depart,” he whispered. Arctic blue light swirled around the stone door. Cancell could tell the magic was having some trouble gripping the heavy door. _I guess that’s why no one’s tried this, hm?_ Cancell noted as he called up his own magic to help the Talisman pulled at the door. _I wonder if…._

Cancell closed his sockets and tried to call up memories form his mother. In a moment, he could see the memory of Asgore opening the door.

Cancell slipped his magic limb under the door and began to maneuver the hand up the door’s face. Soon, he felt the rings. He began to turn them just as his mom had seen Asgore do.

“Knock and….”

The blank surface lit up, circles upon circles of different colors.

The door slid open.

Cancell was home.

No, this wasn’t home. This was a battleground.

Cancel felt his way over to the hidden door and squatted to find the latches. He pushed upward and peeked into a dark hallway before stepping out of the room.

An eerie quiet fell over Cancell. Though night had fallen, he got the sense that the silence wasn’t from everyone sleeping.

No, this silence felt… dangerous.

As if a beast lurked in the darkness, prowling and stalking him.

Cancell edged around the corner just as someone peeked out of a room down the hall.

They popped back into the room.

Cancell glared and stalked down the hall to the door.

…Wait, wasn’t this Asgore’s room? But that shadow he had soon was no where large enough to have been from Asgore.

Cancell peeked into the room and saw the armoire on the far side of the room close on its own.

Right, this was not Asgore he was tracking.

“Who’s in here?” Cancell hissed.

The armoire door cracked open and a cat monster peeked out.

Oh. One of the butlers.

Gods Above and Below, he looked awful--- bags under his dim yellow eyes, shirt and pants tattered and hanging from a thin, starved body.

“What happened to you?” Cancell whispered.

The cat coughed. “After the Queen and Prince were… well, we don’t know what happened to them.”

 _Oh…_ Cancell thought. _I guess he wouldn’t really recognize me_ _now…._

“Asgore said the Queen killed the Prince, then himself, but… that couldn’t be right….” His voice was dry and thick, but he pushed on. “There was no way the Queen could kill his son. He loved him more than anyone--- maybe even more than his own late brother, Gods of Old rest his Soul. But, the Queen wasn’t depressed. Everyone say him around the castle enough to know he was so happy with the Prince… We just… We just couldn’t believe Asgore’s words.”

“I see…” Canel nodded. “You weren’t going into denial because of grief. You legitimately believed something wasn’t right.” _Huh. They finally started thinking. Well, better late than never._

The butler nodded. “We questioned Asgore about the Queen and the Prince and he… he exploded with rage. There… there was so much fire….” His eyes went wide, pupils shaking.

Cancell stepped forward and took the butler by the shoulders. “It’s okay. Listen carefully to me. When you leave this room and turn left, walk down to the last hallway on your right. It’s going to look like a dead end, but there’s a secret door on the wall facing back out into the hall. There are latches on the moulding on the floor. Push them in and lift the door up. Behind the door is a room, and in that room is another opened door. Go down those stairs and follow the path. Stay on that path no matter what you see. Do you remember Toriel? She’s down there in a cottage. She’ll help you.”

The butler nodded.

“Is anyone else still alive?”

He nodded. “I know a few hidden places.”

“Good. Do you know where Asgore is?”

“He wonders around every few days, but he’s mostly in the throne room. He might be there now.”

“All right. Gather as many monsters as you can and go to that room,” Cancell instructed. “You’re magic isn’t going to work downstairs and the forest is a little creepy, but just stay on the path and you’ll be find. Now, remember, from this room it’s left, right, to a hall with a dead end. Latches in the molding. Push in, then up. Head downstairs. Stay on the path. Hurry up, now.”

The butler nodded, mumbling Cancell’s instructions to himself as he padded behind him and into the hall. While on the same floor, Cancell decided to help the butler, worried that his fear may distract him from searching for more survivors. He guided the first small group to the hallway and a less jumpy maid volunteered to keep herding survivors to the door if Cancell just sent them in the right general direction.

As Cancell traversed the floor, he found more starved and terrified monsters, some holding jars full of Dust. He told them were to go, that a maid nearby would help them get to safety. Some of the braver monsters split off to search upstairs while the scared, sick and injured were herded for the door.

With something of a search party in place, Cancell headed for the throne room. He wondered if he should go through the back room or around and through the ‘Judgement Hall.’

He couldn’t help but feel that walking through the Judgement Hall was appropriate, though he wasn’t sure why.

Cancell went down a hall, dark and cold, as if the heat had been sucked out of the air. As he walked, he wrapped the Talismans around his wrists, except for Shadow and Shuffle, both of which were tapped out from his long teleport and trying to move the door. He stuffed these flat stones back in his pocket, began to seep his own magic into the other Talismans as he entered the Judgement Hall.

Cancell slowed his pace at the scorched floor, walls and columns. “He’s been busy,” he whispered as he stepped toward the throne room. He came to a stop when he heard murmuring just beyond the archway.

“... fault, not… …tricked…. Probably… …fine…. I’m still…. ….for eternity….”

Cancell peered into the throne room and found the large space covered in charcoal black burns and scorch marks, the floor littered with piles of gray ash.

Of course he had started his rampage here.

Cancell looked towards the stage and saw him, his father, the king, pacing around his throne, suit and cloak coated in thick layers of ash, the edges frayed and black, singed by his own flames. There were deep gashed in his suit, the only evidence that some monsters had tried to fight back.

“I’ll finish what you all started,” Cancell whispered as he stepped into the room. “Asgore!”

The king froze, back to Cancell. His dirty, dust covered face turned to his son, his crown resting crooked over his forehead and one eye.

The other eye was bloodshot and the moment the orb rested on Cancell, Asgore snapped.

His roar shook the room and he came flying off the stage.

 **“IT’S YOUR FAULT!!!”** he bellowed as he landed, making the ground tremble. He took a large swing at Cancell. **“BECAUSE OF YOU, I HAVE LOST EVERYTHING!!!”**

Cancell stumbled background out of the way as Asgore swung wide over and over.

**“MY KINGDOM! MY RULE! MY PEOPLE! EVERYTHING!!!”**

He raised his balled fists and slammed them into the ground as Cancell jumped away. They left a deep crater in the floor.

“You really are unhinged if you think I’m to blame for that,” Cancell growled as he grabbed onto the Needle Talisman.   
_Please work._ “A Needle of Iron will Pierce!” Cancell forced his magic into the Talisman and black arrows formed around him. They ripped through the air, too fast, too many for Asgore to dodge. He took each arrow, stumbling backward roaring in pain.

Cancell yelped as well. The Talisman had become searing hot and shattered in his hand.

“Damn it. Did I use too much magic to make it work?” Cancell questioned, shaking the shards out his hand.. “Hrm, it’s more like I forced it to work with my magic…. No time to try to figure out the right amount to use. Just have to make each one count,” he decided as he grabbed the Avenge Talisman decorated with a black silhouette of a bird. “Let’s keep him overwhelmed. An Unkindness of Act will Murder!”

The air exploded with hundreds of shadows in the shape of birds, each navy blue in color. They swarmed as one and charged at Asgore, pecking and clawing at the flailing monster.

Cancell tossed away the Talisman before the stone shattered. “Now, let’s have a little fun,” he smirked as a familiar circle of black magic whirled around his feet.

As Cancell readied his next attack, Asgore roared and let loose a torrent of fire, burning away the birds in seconds. The fire spiraled up into the air before curling around and careening straight at a wide-socketed Cancell.

An explosion rocked the room as air sizzled and popped.

Asgore laughed, long and deep. “Foolish boy! You--- GAAAH!”

An arrow of black slammed into Asgore and sent him flying into his throne, the chair shattering into splinters.

Huffing, Cancell was pressed into the far wall. “Lu-lucky me,” he gave a nervous smile. “Well, how was that, Asgore? I call that one Buy One, Get One Fifty--- a random type of magic that leads into a teleport. The random type of magic gets a fifty percent power boost. I think I teleported a bit too well there,” he growled in pain as he peeled himself off the wall.

“What a… childish name,” Asgore growled as he pulled himself to his feet.

“What can I say?” Cancell smirked. “I’m a sucker for a good deal. I got all the names and the ideas for them while shopping in The Basement. This will be my first time using them though, so I do hope that work all right and that you find the names clever at least.”

Asgore snarled as the air around him became full of fiery spheres. He pointed and the spheres shot forward, giving Cancell only seconds to react.

He conjured a black wall that shot out its own projectiles while blocking Asgore’s. The goat was forced to side stop out of the way, which made firing projectiles harder. Growing frustrated, Asgore forced his spheres to congeal and form a large orb, its size looming in height over Cancell’s wall, cracking the barrier under its flaming weight.

Cancell grabbed another Talisman. “A Ring of Salt will Protect!”

An orb of orange encircled him just as the sphere hit the wall, shattering the blockade and slamming into the orb. Cracks began to lace the surface in mere seconds.

Cancell glared. “All right. Have to time this just right---”

The protective orb shattered as did the Talisman, but Cancell managed to teleport out of the way while healing at the same time. The cuts from the shattered orb healed, but he had slammed into the floor as he landed and the magic couldn’t quite heal the pain in his left hip. He really should have practiced this moves beforehand.

 _I wonder who I get the cockiness from,_ Cancell thought as he staggered to his feet and put up another protective sphere. This sphere also had a healing affect and as the pain in his side was soothed, Cancell looked to Asgore to see him approaching with the largest red scythe he had ever seen.

Asgore’s eyes flashed and he swung the large blade, sending waves of orange at the sphere.

**THWACK THWACK THWACK**

Each wave left a deep gash on the sphere as well as shook Cancell around. He could feel the healing wearing off as the magic tried to reinforce the cracking orb.

“I can try another Grand Opening---teleport, then heal during the explosion.”

Cancell waited for the next wave crack the shield apart, but Asgore had switched to careening fireballs. They came at all angles, blocking any path of escape. The orb burst, the force tossing Cancell backward into several exploding fireballs. He screamed as his clothes and bones caught fire, heard his ribs crack as an explosion of flame slammed him into the floor. The young skeleton coughed and rolled over to put himself out. He could just hear Asgore stomping forward, see a flash of red above him. Cancell rolled out of the way as blade tip cracked into concrete.

That could have been his Soul

 **“HOLD STILL!”** Asgore ordered as he raised his scythe overhead.

Wide-socketed, Cancell shot up, felt the wind of the blow against his back as metal met concrete again.

The skeleton scurried forward as Asgore make long strides to keep up with him

Wanting to put some distant between the scythe and himself, Cancell triggered a Buy One Get One. A small black wall appeared as Cancell teleported behind the barrier.

Cancell only had time to breath when the wall crumbled in front of him, taken down by one long swing from Asgore’s scythe. The goat kept up with momentum, swinging in a wide circle and catching Cancell in the ribcage, the blow tossing the young monster to the floor.

“Now, be a good boy and hold still,” Asgore smirked, raising his scythe again.

Cancell rolled out of the way early and triggered Bargain Hunting, a black projectile firing wall.

Asgore swung at the black arrows, batting them away before swinging at the wall.

This time, the wall didn’t crumbled, but caught Asgore’s scythe in its black surface, right in a hole where a projectile would have fired out.

As Asgore yanked at his scythe, Cancell, huffing from behind the wall, looked at his remaining Talisman.

Disregard was the only one left, Provision lost in one of the explosions and Shadow and Shuffle still empty.

“Well… I guess we’re Going Out of Business,” Cancell decided. He stood up and climbed to the top of his wall. He stood atop the blockade and glared down at Asgore. “Hey!” he called, catching the goat’s attention.

For long moments, the two scowled at each other.

“We’re ending this,” Cancell decided. A wave of black spun around him as his magic limbs rose from their hole, making Asgore stumble away.

Half a second later, the hands shot forward and grabbed Asgore around the chest before he could flee.

“Do you want to know something interesting, Asgore?” Cancell asked. “There’s an entire Summon attached to these hands.”

The goat’s eyes bulged.

Canclled smirked. “Don’t worry. I appear to lack the strength to pull it out all the way. But, that’s all right,” he smirked at the frightened goat. “Because I am still able to end you myself.” Cancell clenched the Disregard Talisman in his hand. “My Reality is Truth.”

The Talisman flashed an alarming shade of red before a torrent of air was sucked into the stone, before a piercing wail sounded as Cancell felt his Soul on the brink of being pulled away form him. He felt his wall crumble, felt his Summon fade, felt his world collapse into silence.

…

…Ringing… Asgore wailing, the clatter of metal hitting the floor, a hiss of pain as cracked ribs woke up, the crumbling of nearby debris.

Cancell pulled himself to his aching hands and kneecaps as sound rushed back to him. He looked next to him to find Asgore uncurling from a shaking ball. He hadn’t known what to expect at all (and neither had Cancell, aside from the basics), so the Talisman’s effect had terrified him.

However, when the goat sat up and saw a weary Cancell, he smirked. “I don’t know what you did, boy, but I am still standing!” The battered Monster rose to his feet. “And now, you….” Asgore trailed, looking at his hands. “You…. you…. wh… where is my magic!?”

Cancell smirked. “Gone,” he answered. “Don’t be upset. Mine is gone, too. That’s why I saved that Talisman for last. I wasn’t sure if it would effect me, too. Never really knowing, the price of having an odd Soul.” Cancell got to his feet. “Looks like both of us out of magic for a while. Luckily, though.” Cancell stomped down on Asgore’s scythe, popping the weapon upright and catching the handle in his hand. “One of us brought a weapon,” he smirked, taking hold of the scythe in both hands. “It may not be able to use magic, but I’m sure i **t can still slice up a little bitch.** Shall we see?” Cancell cackled. “Now, how **should** we do this?” The skeleton began to approach the trembling goat. “A **slice** across?” He swung with a louder cackle , tip just missing Asgore’s stomach. “How about diagonally!?” he screech, large grin frowing on his face. Another swing clipped Asgore’s ear. The goat tripped over a hole in the floor and fell to his back. He hurried to sit up, eyes large.

“Oh, straight **up and down** then!!?” Cancell asked, sockets widening, pinpoints dim, but shaking in crazed excitement. His tongue hung from his fangs as if he was savoring a piece of meat. Finally, finally, **FINALLY, HE COULD KILL THIS SICK BASTARD. EVERYTHING HAD BEEN LEADING UP TO THIS FINAL BATTLE, THIS FINAL MOMENT! FINALLY, IT WAS HERE!**

 **“STRAIGHT UP AND DOWN** IT IS THEN! YES, I CAN **CERTAINLY ARRANGE** THAT!!!” Cancell shrieked in laughter. He raised the blade over his head. “NOW, NOW, **NOW,** BE A GOOD BOY AND **HOLD STILL!!!!!”**

“CANCELL, STOP!”

Cancell froze, not even a second away from swinging. His skull gave a slow turn to the entry way. “…Mommy?”

Sans stood huffing at the door. As soon as Keep had reached the secret room, he had hopped off and bolted straight for the throne room, his mind only on saving his baby. “Love… please,” he breathed. “Don’t do this.”

“But I can **END** it!” Cancell cried, voice half-crawling from the bowels of the earth “I can **END** this **NIGHTMARE** once and for all!”

“No, you won’t! Not if you kill him!” Sans cried. “Look at yourself! Just _the idea_ of killing him is changing you! You’re not a murderer, Cancell! You’re a protector--- remember how you saved Swapfyle? You’re capable of so much love, not just for me, but for Keepsayk. You’ve smiled so much more since you’ve met her. And you’re my anchor. You’ve kept me sane since the moment you were born. It’s because of you that I didn’t give myself up to the guilt I felt. I… I’m so sorry, Cancell,” Sans began to tear up. “I’m the one who told you to let that hate fuel you. I _never_ should have told you something so terrible because it’s changing you and I’m terrified that if you do this, if you kill him… you won’t be able to come back from it. Please, Cancell,” Sans begged. “Instead of hate… show him mercy. I know he doesn’t deserve it, but I can’t let you hurt your Soul like this…. Please….”

Cancell stared, mind racing. This… this was his chance! He could get revenge for all the monsters Asgore had made suffer!

But… was this really him? A murderer?

Like his… father….

“Oh, Gods…,” Cancell realized. His mother may have opened the gate, but he had chosen to walk through--- just like his father, he had let hate and rage engulf him. His desire for revenge had led him to steal and invade, had made his mother and friend cry and even fear for him.

…He was no better than Asgore.

Cancell lowered the scythe.

Sans gave a huge sigh of relief.

Cancell stepped away from Asgore, still shaking before looking at the weapon in his hand. He gulped, breathed, glared at Asgore. “I’m taking your scythe,” he decided as he walked away, the blade resting on his shoulder.

Sans raced up to Cancell and hugged him. “I’m so sorry!” he sobbed. “I should have tried harder to help you! I never should I--- I’m so sorry!”

“It’s all right,” Cancell reassured his mother. “It’s okay.”

“Cancell!” came a watery voice. Racing down the hall was Keep, single eye dripping tears.

Sans stepped aside as the two skeletons entered the hallway, thinking the shadow wanted to hug the skeleton.

Instead, she slapped him.

“STUPID!” she sobbed. “You steal and break into The Sun and steal some more! You run away! You had me and your mom worried sick! You stupid pile of bones! I hate you! I hope you die all alone!!” she wailed as she pulled Cancell into a hug. “Don’t you _ever_ run off like that again! I’ll never forgive you if you make me worry like that again, you hear me!?”

“I hear you! I’m sorry!” Cancell cried as he held Keep close. “I’m sorry. I’ll make it up to you, to everyone--- I’m sorry!”

As the two reconciled, Sans looked into the throne room.

Asgore was still on the floor, looking down at his flameless hands. He let out frustrated roar.

“Stop whining!” Sans ordered, making Asgore glare. “You brought this all on yourself. You should be happy because you got exactly what you wanted: a kingdom where no one will ever overthrow you because everyone’s dead or gone!”

Sans stepped back and slammed the doors to the room closed. Shaking, he glanced back at the teens. “We should go before his magic comes back.”

They nodded in agreement and made their way back to the stone door as fast as Cancell’s limping would allow.

At the door, Cancell came up with an idea. “Everyone’s out now, right?”

“Yeah,” Keep answered. “We met a bunch of monsters on the way here, all one big group, so I guess they started heading out when all of them grouped up.”

“All right then. We should turn the door around.”

“What?” Sans questioned.

“If we turn it around, Asgore can’t open it,” Cancell explained. “But _we’ll_ be able to if we ever want to see if he’s Dust. Then we can take the door down all together and the ‘floors’ can become one big ‘house’.”

Keep nodded. “Just from a safety stand point, it’s probably a good idea.”

“But how are we going to move something that heavy?” Sans asked.

Cancell took a deep breath and closed his sockets, tried to find some magic in his Soul. Seconds ticked by before two hands rose from his feet.

“So, your magic really does work anywhere,” Sans noted.

“I guess it’s one good thing about having a Heartsick Soul,” Cancell replied as he used the hands to wobble the door of its invisible track. Unlike Shuffle, his magic couldn't go flat and grab something at the same time, just wiggle around a lot. “I don’t think I’m affected by frequencies as much, though I did have to force my magic into the Talismans and forced them work. Like, getting them to accept my personal magic as the frequency to use. But they all sort of… broke afterwords--- uh, don’t worry, your Shadow Talisman is safe!” Cancell reassured an angry Keep as he returned her Talisman to her, then looked at his mom. “Um… I’m sorry, mom. The ones you had and the ones I took, except for Shuffle and Disregard, all broke during the fight. I, uh… guess I need to apologize to Dr. Alphys and Toriel and find a way to make it up to them….”

“That would be correct,” Sans spoke, arms crossed. “But, well… you did do an amazingly good thing. You freed the rest of The Attic. In time, they can live in peace here.”

“While Asgore can have his nice, little prison,” Cancell smirked as he fit the door back onto the track, the circles now facing them. With this, Asgore couldn’t open the door. The Attic had become the prison The Basement once was.

“So… it’s really over,” Sans realized. “You freed everyone from a tyrant, even overthrew him without killing him, then trapped him in his own kingdom. Sort of poetic.”

Cancell raised one of his magic hands to cast a dim navy blue light over everyone’s faces, allowing his frown to be visible before he looked to the ground. “I really am sorry that I made you both worry… that I let my hate lead me to actually stealing from you. I… Gods, I feel awful, I can’t believe I….”

“It’s all right,” Sans whispered as he put arms around his son. “The important thing is that you’re safe. You’re home.” He pulled away to look up at his teary son. “Speaking of home, we should head back to the castle as soon as we can. Crimson’s waiting for us. We should stop by Toriel’s too. She’s going to need help with all the survivors. She may have a way for us to send a message to the castle to let everyone know we’re okay.”

“Right,” Cancell nodded before looking at Keep. “I’m sorry,” he started. “For scaring you, the fight we had, for stealing from you. Can we… Can we start over?”

Keep breathed. “I suppose I can give you a second chance, all things considered. Just know that I rarely give third chances, so don’t mess this up, mister!”

Cancell smiled. “Of course.”

Keep smiled back and let Cancell hold her hand.

“Perfect,” Sans gave a cheery smile. “Well then, are you ready to head back?”

“Yeah,” Cancell nodded.

They would need quite a few days to head to the castle, having such a large crowd with them. But when they returned, Crimson was waiting, just like Sans wanted him to.

Sans smiled at him. “He-hey! I, um, I mean, I’m not sure if you heard, but I, uh, brought a few friends…?”

Crimson stared at the large group before laughing.

Sans chuckled as he run up to Crimson and put his arms around him. “We’re home”

Red smiled and kissed his cheekbone. “Welcome home.”

 

The End.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Cleithrophobia is the fear of being locked in a confined space.
> 
> If you'd been around long enough, you know I love psychological torture for by baddies, so of course, I couldn't have Asgore die. I just gave him exactly what he wanted: a kingdom where no one could overthrow him. Because everyone is gone or dead. =D This is probably one of my favorite endings. Though, I do wish I could have spent more time focused on Sans and Red, it turns out that Cancell made a good anti-hero. So, I would call this story "low fat Kustard." It's there, but it's light and fluffy. =3
> 
> This is also my first long story where there's no smut! How crazy is that! I really just wanted to focus on increasing my word count and most of these chapters got at least 1-2k words longer than my average of 2k. That said, I am never purposely aiming for a long word count again! It takes hours to type these up! It got really taxing towards the end there. >.< But, I'm glad I stuck it through and proved to myself that "hey, you can write longer chapters! Just... maybe not through a whole story next time, lol."
> 
> So, where does that leave us now? Well, with the holidays coming up, it wouldn't a great idea to start a new story now. In November, I'm going to Kansas, in December, to Alabama. I sort of want to take a writing break and focus on other things. That said, the writing won't stop completely! I plan on doing what I call Downtime Drabbles, drabbles posted in my downtime from major stories. There's a few already posted on my tumblr that I plan to upload over here. Anyway, once a week, I'll post a drabble of some sort to give you guys something to read. 
> 
> During November, I'll also being finishing up Smut Prompts that were meant for Feb last year >.> Those will be typed in January to be enjoyed for the 28 days of Feb! I'll also start working on the backlog for Invoketale 2 in Jan! 
> 
> During this time, I'll also be crocheting, working on 13tale and working on game stuff. 
> 
> So, for now, look out for Drabbles! They'll be some Reader insert ones for you Red and Sans lovers, as well as Papby, Kustard and a dash of Sonadow. 
> 
> That all said, thank you so much for reading! I know this story was a little different from what I usually do in terms of writing style and length, but I'm glad so many people enjoyed it and I'm glad we made it to the end. See you again soon for drabbles, Smut in Feb and Invoketale in March or April!
> 
> Thank you for reading! ^_^

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading.
> 
> Stop on by and say hello or ask questions at my [NSFW Tumblr](https://cathedralmidnight.tumblr.com) ^-^


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